The Beginnings of Our Grim
by bellabitchlestrangee
Summary: The story of the unloving and the unloved, of how Mr. Orion Arcturus and Miss. Walburga Irma came to be the Blacks.
1. Waterfall

_**A/N:** Well I'm back again. So to those who read what I had posted before, this is a revised, re-written version as a result of my new-found enthusiasm for this fic and this time, I promise I'll get further than a couple of chapter. It also exists within my Black!verse too so this is compliant with my other serial fic. It's a sort of prequel if you will. And yes, that means that this is also a serial fic. How exciting. But many thanks must be given to **hell0lust.** She is not only the very reason this fic might exist for giving me the idea but she's also just really great! Not only does she listen to my never-ending complaining, but she also writes the best Wolfstar fics you have ever read, not to mention her very good Dark!Sirius fic, **The Subtleties That Make Mass Murderers Out of Otherwise Decent Human Beings.** I recommend you all go have a good long read - and cry. _

_So this idea isn't something I've seen much of before so I'm not entirely sure of how it will be received which is a shame, but I might just post this for my own satisfaction. But this is essentially just a love story. Except it's between two of the least-loved and least-loving characters in the fandom. So maybe it's not a love story at all.¯\\_(ツ)_/¯_ _Also I will be switching between POVs because I can't make up my mind, but it should stay in third person and in past tense._

 _To give you some context, this is set in 1949 where Walburga is 24, Alphard is 22, and Orion and Cygnus are 20. I plan to make this as canonical as possible but there comes a fair few amount of times that I need to mess around with canon a bit to make this work. But as far as timelines go, I have put a lot of work into making it fit with canon and I think I've been quite successful if I do say so myself._

 _As always, it would be immensely helpful if you could take a little time to let me know what you think. I'm really nervous about writing a story in which I have to develop characters so if you have any pointers for me, that would be unendingly helpful. Apologies for the long author's note. It shan't happen again!_

 _ **Warnings:** Dark Themes, Incest, Rape._

* * *

 _November 11th 1949_

She was a doll. A human doll that stood no taller than 5"3 in her heels. Charcoal silk ran over her body like a waterfall, a beautiful, mesmerising waterfall that hugged her hips and corseted waist. Such a dramatically small waist, especially when compared to the voluptuous curves either side of it. Her dress didn't leave much to the imagination. Her hips and arse were showcased in elegant grey silk and were catching the eye of many men in the room. Silk thighs peaked out from beneath the slit that ran up either leg. Her shoulders, chest and arms were covered only in the grey silk too, a light swirling patterned, embroidered in silver, running up the length of her chest and framing her obvious breasts. A high neck – a sort of mimic of the Vietnamese cổ áo - that just about touched her jaw line was fooling no one; her ample bosom was very obvious. But still the silk persisted in its mission to cover the soft pale skin of her arms, all the way to Walburga's wrists.

Irma Black had most likely been the one to pull the ravenous dark curls into an elegant chignon at the back of her head, leaving delicate tendrils of loose curl to fall from her head and touch her shoulders, dipping their dark fingers into the soft cream of her cheek.

The one time her father would ever allow her to show this much of herself would be the one time he'd allow men of all ages to ogle her. Pollux was auctioning her off to the highest bidder.

Orion watched from the corner of the room as she was whisked away by each man she had had to reject several times before, at the request of her father. The ball was one of many hosted by Black Estate. Gala Functions and Charity Events and The Merlin-Awful Gentlemen's Balls were a necessity, of course, among the social elite and, outwardly, this evening was no different but Orion knew that the last three events that Pollux and Irma Black had hosted were actually attempts to marry their daughter off. But none of them were good enough for her, and she knew it. She was loud and opinionated – demanding qualities in a woman – and she was easily the most driven woman he had ever met, with the most devious smirk and the headiest of laughter.

She was like a toxin. A poison that he knew laced every drink in the clutches of every man in this room, some of the women too. They were drinking her in, letting her electric presence consume them. And she _was_ electric. Her energy was palpable from across the ballroom, her magic almost visible.

Orion continued to watch her, silently sulking from the corner of the ballroom with none other than a potted plant for company. He'd finally shaken the delightful presence of his Slytherin school mates and was now deeply regretting it as his attention was drawn to the sultry smirk of Marcus Mckinnon as the man tried to woo some poor girl. Orion briefly thought about intervening but decided against it, as he could hardly bare Marcus' lonesome moaning as it is. _The man isn't even lonely,_ Orion thought. Marcus was renowned for his conquests, always consensual and fair, of course, but he was a _travelled_ man all the same and Orion was always first to know of his latest shag, be they men or women, though Marcus was decidedly quieter about the men lest the rest of Purblood society got wind of such behaviour.

Orion's focus moved back to Walburga. It was true, none of the men were good enough for her. None of them truly appreciated her like they ought to. He watched her being danced away by a man. A Nott? Or was that the Prince heir? Orion didn't care, he wasn't watching _him_.

He leant back against the wall, sipping the whiskey in his hand. Walburga had finished dancing as the song died away and she walked over to drinks table where he was standing. She bypassed the expensive wines and cocktails, heading straight for the vodka. She tipped a generous amount into a glass and threw it back.

A low growl escaped her throat at the burning trail it left and she braced her hands on the table. She closed her eyes and breathed a long sigh.

"Long night?" He asked.

She looked up at him, noticing him for the first time. She covered her startled expression instantly with an arched eyebrow and a devious smirk. "Hi Orrie. How are you?"

He smiled back in her direction. "I'm quite well, thank you." He pushed himself off of the wall and walked over to her. "You, though, look exhausted. I can't imagine being danced away by a number of men is very fun."

She smiled a real smile and shrugged. "Oh it's all worlds of fun, when you know how to play with them." She gave him a conspiratorial wink, eyes flashing.

He laughed. "Oh I bet."

Her laughter died and she smiled again. "And what exactly have you been doing, hm? Standing here all alone all night." She said, her tired smile still playful. "I'll give you a hint now," she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "Fern's not all that talkative." He followed her nod to the potted plant next to him.

"That's a ficus." He said.

She pursed her lips. "Named Fern." She huffed. "My point still stands; you look bored out of your mind."

He laughed. "You're hilarious." He said, trying not to smile. "I'm fine actually, just artfully dodging Marcus and the others. My father too actually." He said, lifting his drink to his lips.

"I believe he's with my father, talking about man stuff and puffing out their man chests." She said with a sigh. "As for Mckinnon, I believe he's with Mabel Fawley. They spend an inordinate amount of time together. It's quite disgusting, really."

"Quite." They watched the pair across the room, Mabel stroking Marcus' arm, Orion's expression pitying whilst Walburga looked slightly disgusted.

"Well," she snapped from her reverie and turned to him again, "I best be off to find Daddy. See what he thinks of all of those pretty boys. And he best choose someone soon because I'm twenty-four. I'm running out of…" She paused in thought. "…'birthing years' I think Mother called it." She breathed a laugh and turned to walk towards the men at the other end of the room, leaving him with a flirty wave and an image of sashaying hips.

She leaved her cousin behind, purposefully moving her hips with gusto. She smirked as she walked away, knowing that she was the sole focus of grey eyes.

She reached the group of men, and delicately pushed her way through until she was standing in front of a tall, muscular man. Pollux looked down at her and smiled. "Walburga, you look beautiful tonight."

"Indeed you do."

She turned to her right to see her youngest brother staring down at her, a smile on his face.

"Thank you both." She turned back to Pollux. "Where is Mother?"

He smiled slightly, "Merlin only knows. I should find her, though. I've been asked several times about how light my arm feels without her on it." He walked away from the group of men, taking several of them with him.

Walburga took a drink from a passing waiter and sipped it, taking her place next to Cygnus to observe the room.

"You are looking exquisite 'Burga." He said, taking her in.

She looked back up at him, a smile on her face. She reached up and patted his chest. "Aw, you clean up rather well yourself, Cygnus."

He looked down at where her hand lay on his chest and she removed it instantly, bringing it back to her drink. She stared straight ahead and felt his gaze on her. His eyes were running up and down her body, appreciating the curves that he found.

He inhaled the smell of his drink and turned back to the room, keeping the hunger within him hidden.

She tried to think of any reason to leave, hoping that someone else would ask for a dance and whisk her away from what had quickly become a strained silence between them.

"Well, I think I see Eileen waving me down." She quickly trotted away from him to find the women who hadn't called her over at all.

Instead she walked behind the crowd at the back of the room and slipped out of the double doors. She followed the corridor until she came to the entrance hall. Climbing the staircase until she reached the first floor, she followed her feet until she found the small drawing room.

She opened the door and walked in the direction of the drinks cabinet, weaving her way through the chaise lounges and leather sofas. Not bothering to turn the lights on, she picked a bottle at random and poured a healthy amount into a glass tumbler.

Throwing back yet another glass, she took a breath to steady herself. She heard the creak of the door behind her and sighed at herself for not closing it.

She turned and came eye to eye with Cygnus. It was still dark so she couldn't see his face, but his build was a dead give-away to his identity.

"Cygnus? You alright?" She masked the tremble in her voice with much practise.

"'Course 'Burga. But are you?"

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well," he started to move forward as he spoke, "it must be exhausting to be carried off by men when you know none will have you." He raised his wand hand and, with a flick of his wrist, sent a small flame to every candle in the room.

Walburga was at least thankful for the light. It gave her more of an idea of how close he was, how drunk he was.

"But what do you mean?" She unconsciously stepped backward into the cabinet behind her.

He continued to slowly walk to her. "Well women who blurt ugly opinions out aren't attractive 'Burga."

"I don't-"

"Shhh." He was in front of her now, not two steps from her and there was nowhere else to go. "You're just so loud and demanding. You think you can do things like a man." He paused and reached up to touch her cheek. She flinched. He smiled. "I mean, it's cute in a way. But a woman needs to quiet down once a husband is in the picture. So far, you're not making a very good impression."

"B-but-"

"That's not very quiet." He gave her a look she had seen before. Not often but she had seen it enough to know to be scared. He crowded her, overwhelming her with his height and his touch and his scent. She didn't like this.

He smiled after a moment. "That's better." He took a step forward and reached around her back to grab the bottle of whatever she had poured into her glass. He stepped back again and, with glass in hand, gestured to the sofas behind them. "Have a seat."

"Oh no, I best go back to the..." He hadn't cut her off, not with words at least. But her effort to find solace in company and witnesses had died on her tongue at the menacing look on his face. The way his cold grey eyes turned black with warning of his anger.

She said nothing but walked silently to the sofa and seated herself on it. He smiled at her and turned back to the drinks cabinet. "Perhaps if you settled yourself down, Father wouldn't have to keep throwing balls and selling you to all of his friends' sons."

Walburga didn't know what to think. She sort of just sat, feeling herself shrink with every word he said. She thought she should feel angry, she thought she should be lashing out but she wasn't. That look had made it clear that lashing out wouldn't be okay.

"It's silly really. Embarrassing almost. Men don't want to be around that. They want a wife." He turned and gave her a condescending look. "You are not a wife."

The last remnants of her composed-self fell. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were the saddest he had ever seen. It seemed to satisfy him. He left the cabinet and walked over to her. He pushed a glass of clear liquid into her hand, and took a sip of his. He sat down next to her, into the arm of the sofa and looked at her.

He pointed towards the glass in her hand. She looked down and took a sip at his silent request. She looked back at him. "Why are you telling me this?" She asked.

He gave her a small chuckle. "Because it's the truth. Drink up."

She stared ahead of her at the opposite wall and took another sip, much larger this time. She hissed at the burn it left on her throat and winced at the tangy taste. Whatever the alcohol was, she hadn't had it before.

"It's a shame really, because you'd make such a good wife." He gave her a once over that, even in her increasingly buzzing-with-alcohol mind, she didn't miss. He leant closer to her slightly. She felt intoxicated. Not in the same way as earlier. She wasn't scared or happy or angry. She just felt a never ending need to do exactly as he said. Like it was the only way he'd let her survive.

He reached his hand out to touch the loose curls that had fallen from her hair. He stroked them softly and his hand moved to her cheek. His fingers traced her jaw, drawing soft lines over skin. She held her breath.

"Because you are exquisite, aren't you?"

And he closed the gap between them. He pressed his lips against hers, leaning into her. His mouth moved against hers. It was fast and rough and dominating. She had no say in it. He pushed his tongue past her lips and took in everything about her. She was screaming inside. This shouldn't be happening. This wasn't right.

He took her drink from her hand and threw it onto the floor, without care for the stain that was now seeping into the carpet. He was using his weight to push her back into the sofa. His mouth dominated hers and as she felt her back connecting with the sofa beneath her, she awoke.

She used her hands to push against his shoulders and he broke away. "What?" He asked, a hungry anger in his eyes.

"Stop! Get off. I need to go back." She was spluttering, she knew it.

He just chuckled darkly at her. "Shut up. Show me how good of a wife you can be." And he pushed against her again. His lips roamed hers and this time he didn't stop when she pushed against him. He shifted so that he was on top of her completely.

He pulled away from her and chuckled down at her. Her eyes were wide but they were unfocused. He took her by the back of her thighs and opened her legs, settling himself between them.

"Cygnus, no. Please, Cygnus!"

He just kept chuckling. He laughed down at her as he slipped his hand beneath the slit at her thigh, pulling the silk trousers down her legs, his fingers working towards the lace French knickers that he knew she had on.

"Please Cygnus! Stop!" Her protests were growing quieter, her words were turning to sobs and the insisting pushing against his shoulders was growing weaker as the dizziness that clouded her body - and laced her drink - started to take over.

His dark eyes roamed her body until they stopped at her face. "Be quiet, and be a good woman."

She nodded mutely as he split the seam he was playing with at her thigh. He ripped the wizarding áo dài from her body, leaving deep red marks from where the fabric had dragged her skin with it. She was openly crying as he pulled her legs open and kissed up and down her body.

He was rough and sloppy and it made her cringe and gag. He ripped through the thin corset on her chest and groped at her breasts, rough hands leaving bruises in the shape of fingers. Her hands gripped the sofa beneath her.

He pulled back for a moment and, with a heaving chest, started to pull at the buckle of his belt. He pulled the belt from his trousers and threw it to the ground.

Her cries grew louder and he leant over her again. One hand worked the zipper at his trousers and the other went to cover her mouth. His glare grew infinitely menacing. "Why don't you understand how to be quiet?"

He ground into her and she felt the bulge of his arousal pressing into her naked thigh. He got work to freeing himself again and Walburga closed her eyes, trying to shut everything out.

She felt him rip at the last piece of lace standing between them and then she felt him brushing up against her centre.

He chuckled into her neck and pushed into her, too hard and too fast.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** As I said, it is revised and I'm excited about being able to actually sort out a real story line. I have a lot written but I'd severely appreciate a response from you guys because this is a serial fic and I have no idea what I'm doing with it. Thanks._


	2. Peculiarity

Orion found Pollux to be a funny man, in both wit and peculiarity. He watched as the man laughed merrily to the men surrounding them. His own father, Arcturus, was obviously sharing a funny story with them - Orion wasn't listening - that was making Irma blush and hide her face in Pollux's shoulder.

He liked seeing this, he liked not-quite-listening to this man's stories and opinions of other people. Pollux was open and encouraging around everyone but he always directed attention away from himself, as if he were hiding something. Orion supposed, like everyone, Pollux had secrets.

A smile played at the corners of his mouth as he watched the man look down affectionately at his wife and he thought that there couldn't be _much_ to hide. Pollux was tall and muscular, he was rich and charming, his wife was gracious and his daughter was beautiful. Even both his sons had achieved well at Hogwarts.

He couldn't imagine what the man had to hide. He supposed Pollux would have to give out a few unsavoury beatings to his children. Merlin knew they were a handful.

He continued to listen to the chatter of the adults that he was standing with.

"He's a madman, that Avery." Pollux chuckled as he lifted his scotch to his lips. He looked down at Irma who had patted his arm to get his attention.

"Where's Walburga, darling?"

Pollux furrowed his eyebrows and looked around but was interrupted by Cygnus who was walking up to the group. "I believe she excused herself to freshen up before she continues to mingle." He said with a charming smile.

Orion never really understood Cygnus either. For such an observant young man, Orion always had an ability to read people rather well but Cygnus was an enigma, much like his father. He was unlike his easy-going elder brother, Alphard - whose greatest ambition in life was to win galleons and drink with people he liked. It seemed as though Cygnus wanted more, but what else could a young boy grow up with? Cygnus had an abundance of money, a good father, a doting mother, good grades that he hardly had to work for. He was a cute little boy when he was young and so always the centre of attention. And yet it wasn't enough for whatever reason. Cygnus always wanted more than he had and Orion felt silently smug at the fact that it was _his_ father that was the elder cousin and so he was the heir to the throne of Black - _not_ Cygnus.

Now though, his parents nodded and continued their conversation. Orion had stopped listening though. Something about Cygnus' smile wasn't right. It disgusted him, and left his stomach heavy with the feeling of an ominous weight, a dark foreboding.

Cygnus was lying. He didn't know why, but he was sure that something had happened. He looked around at the people that surrounded him and muttered an 'excuse me' before wandering away, towards the large double doors.

He found his way to the entrance hall and climbed the staircase. He checked all of the guest bedrooms and bathrooms that the first floor held until he walked to the end of the hall. He opened the door to a small drawing room.

There were no candles lit but he could hear quiet sobbing in the darkness. He pushed the door open further and at the sound of the creaking hinges, the sobbing stopped.

He stepped into the room. "Wallie? You in here?" He called out to the room.

The crying started back up again, louder this time. He used his wand to send a flame to some of the candles by the window to illuminate the room.

And he saw her. Walburga was lying on the sofa, naked, curled into herself and weeping. She looked bruised and beaten, her hair had been pulled out of its intricate bun and her heavy eye make up covered half her cheeks. She looked up at him, shame and despair in her eyes.

He was with her in no more than two strides, kneeling by the sofa. "Wallie? What happened? Who did this to you?" His voice was panicked and already starting to break.

She only shook her head and sobbed harder. He reached his hand out toward her face and his fingers shook as they traced just above where a black welt was already forming around her eye.

"Shh. It's alright. I've got you." He was doing his best to reassure her, trying desperately to keep the white hot panic out of his voice.

He went to put his arms under her to lift her but when his hand brushed the back of her thigh she flinched violently and screamed. He retracted his hands immediately. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

He didn't know what to do. He couldn't leave her like this. "Look, Wallie. I'm sorry but I need to lift you. Is that alright?" He spoke slowly, his voice shaking with fear.

She turned her head to look at him and gave him a mute nod. He shook his suit jacket from his arms and lay it over her to cover her slightly. He reached his hand under her thighs and shoulders and stood, lifting her like a bride and never before had he realised how small she really was.

She was a tiny woman, a girl really and she felt infinitely fragile in his arms.

He carried her out of the room and started toward her bedroom on the second floor. He reached the door and pushed it open, quickly walking over to the bed to place her on it carefully. He moved around her softly, trying not to scare her with sharp movements.

"Wallie, please. Tell me who did this to you." He was pleading, begging.

She shook her head, "Cy- Cygnus."

He closed his eyes in anger and prayed to some deity or Sweet Circe above to give him the patience to not lash out and scare her. Her crying had quieted somewhat, just a soft hiccough-y breath remained.

He sat down next to her. "What is it, Wallie? What do you need?"

She didn't look at him instead she turned to him and clutched at his waistcoat. "H- hurts."

He looked down at her and started to see the blackening marks that were littering her hips and thighs. He didn't know how to help her. He just didn't know what to do, so he sat with her. He moved closer to her and pulled her small, broken frame to him.

They sat in silence for several moments before she spoke again.

"I'm sorry."

He looked down at her, startled. "What ever could you be sorry for?"

She sniffed again and fresh tears started to roll down her cheeks, "because I'm dirty and broken," he just stared at her in stunned silence, appalled at her words, "and Daddy says men don't want impure brides. I'm sorry I'm not a good woman." Her voice broke on the last word and she started crying again.

"What in Merlin's name are you talking about?" He asked, loudly. She shrunk in his lap and he realised his tone sounded rather admonishing so he made an attempt to soften his voice. "Merlin, I hope you don't believe any of that," she looked up at him in confusion, "don't you realise how brilliant you are?"

She stayed silent so he continued. "We've known each other since we were babies, Wallie, and I've never oonce thought you were anything les than wonderful. I remember being four years old and thinking you were some brilliant being from another planet." He chuckled slightly. "I had a crush on you when I was seven."

She let out a breath that might have been laughter. "Trust me, I knew." He smiled at her. He could feel her muscles starting to relax against him and she settled her head into his lap. "You always pulled my hand and made me follow you around."

He laughed. "I remember taking your wand off of you."

"And I remember getting in trouble with Daddy for smacking you in the face to get it back." Her voice was starting to sound stronger than it had.

He sighed. "You are brilliant, definitely. And you are strong and I love hearing you laugh." He stroked her hair as he mused aloud to himself. "Your laugh is brilliant. It's like someone is melting copper, it's smoky and silvery and..." he chuckled to himself bashfully. "I don't know."

He couldn't see the smile that started to grace her face.

"And I love hearing you talk. It's like everything you say, you really believe. And you can use words like no one else. You can wrap your thoughts in words that sound like _art_." He was just saying everything that came into his head. "You're so brilliant and sure of yourself. I don't think you're broken. I think you're very whole."

She gave a shaky sigh and shook her head. "I feel so dirty. What will I do with myself?" She said into his lap.

He hesitated, not sure if he should say what he was about to say. "I feel quite broken most of the time." He breathed a heavy sigh. "I just feel like I've felt sad for so long that I don't know how to feel anything else. I don't want to get used to being tired but I can't find a way out of it. I feel empty and tired and… broken."

She looked up at him from his lap and he continued, "I don't know what I'm saying. I guess it's just that even if you are broken, you're not the only one. I mean we're Blacks. It's in our very blood to be perfectly broken." He said, giving a wry smile.

She sat up slightly, the suit jacket falling from her shoulder. She looked at him with an intense gaze and reached her hand up to hold his jaw. "Why are you being nice to me?"

He was mesmerised, nothing this beautiful had ever been this close to him. And nothing this beautiful had never looked so ugly. Her eyes were red and puffy, mascara stained her cheeks and the blueish black mark had spread to her brow bone. It made him want to throw things, but that gaze. It kept him completely still.

She chuckled darkly, no humour in her voice. "I'm damaged goods. No man wants a wife who doesn't know when to shut up. No man wants a wife who's been had by another man."

He swallowed over a thick lump of emotion. She sounded so empty. His voice cracked as he said it.

"I do."

She stared at him for no longer than a second before she pulled his lips to hers. She was all passion and fire and all of his emotions seemed to crash in waves in front of his closed eyes. He lost himself in the feel of her lips, in her taste, her smell. _Her._ Her kiss curled like smoke between their lips and fire danced in his lungs.

He brought his hands up to the small of her back. She pushed herself into him further before pulling back for breath.

They hovered, mere centimetres from each other, their eyes lidded heavily and their chests heaving. She smiled that beautiful real smile and laughed giddily. She pulled back further, suddenly looking bashful and ashamed. "Can I just..."

"Of course, go to sleep."

She settled her head back on his lap and pulled the suit jacket over her a bit more. "Sorry about your shirt." She said softly.

He looked down at his shirt sleeve and his eyes widened at the dark blood stain he had from carrying her. He swallowed, bent his head low and kissed her hair. Then he sat back against the headboard and waited for morning.


	3. Knocking

_**A/N:** It's actually been a hundred years since I last updated and I'm ever so sorry, but my exams were about and I thought that I should probably make some sort of effort. But now I am back, with a 10 week holiday ahead in which I will be writing all the fanfic ever. So please enjoy the update and consider that pesky hiatus lifted._

* * *

 _Bang. Bang. Bang._ The knocking on a door shook Orion from his sleep. He breathed a sigh and blinked a few times to wake him up properly.

"'Burga, you in there? You better be up soon. Father didn't see you last night." Alphard's voice sounded from the other side of the bedroom door followed by his footfalls as he walked away.

Orion looked around at the room. Dark red cushion, plush carpet, the smell of rose and wine. He was in Walburga's room. And then he remembered - he remembered _everything_.

He looked down at the girl in his arms. Walburga's cheek was pressed against his lap, making her lips look swollen and childlike. She looked like a baby when she slept but he noticed a trail of drool was working its way into a puddle on his leg and he decided it best to wake her.

"Wallie," he shook her shoulder lightly. "C'mon, Wallie. Time to wake up."

She shifted slightly and her eyes started to blink slowly. "Mhmphm."

He couldn't help but smile. He lifted her shoulders and slipped out from underneath her, leaving her to wake up on her own.

He walked straight to the vanity to check his appearance in the mirror and he realised straight away that that was a bad idea. He looked awful. The hair that usually fell to the nape of his neck in loose curl resembled the back end of a duck. His jaw was lined with dirty, black stubble and his clothes were creased and wrinkled, not to mention, of course, the brownish blood stain on his left arm.

"I don't feel good."

His head whipped around at the voice that broke him from his reverie. Walburga was sat up in the bed, clutching the suit jacket around her naked body. Whatever he had thought about his appearance, she was ten times worse.

"You're awake." He said as he walked over to her and sat down on the bed. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head and he thought she looked quite green. She opened her mouth to speak but before she could say anything, vomit erupted from her mouth all over him.

"Sorry." Her broken voice said, still spitting bits of bile and food out.

He looked down at his now vomit covered lap. "N-no. Don't apologise. I uhh... wasn't planning on wearing this much longer anyway." He smiled at her, trying to reassure her. "Is that all of it?"

She shook her again, slowly. "I don't feel very good at all."

"Okay, well let's get you to the bathroom." He helped her to stand and half carried her to the en-suite.

He sat her down on the floor in front of the toilet, bringing the suit jacket around her shoulders from where it had slipped off. Then he stepped back, not entirely sure of what to do next. He seated himself on the edge of the claw-footed bathtub and looked around the room, trying to find something to distract himself.

She lay on the floor, head on hands that were clutching the edge of the toilet bowl and she watched him. They sat like that in an increasingly awkward silence for several minutes until she spoke.

"You look terrible, y'know." She was pressing her cheek against her hands and it was slurring her words. "You should get dressed for break-" she was cut off by another great heave, purging more of her stomach contents into the toilet.

Orion went to her, pulling the hair out of her face and rubbing her back. He cringed at how painful it sounded. She stopped retching and raised her head. "Breakfast. I meant to say breakfast."

He let out a breath of laughter and she joined him with a wry chuckle. "Are you alright?" He asked after the laughter died away. She nodded and he let her hair down again, turning to grab some loo roll.

"The guest bedroom has some spare clothes that might fit you." She said after she had wiped her mouth. "I think I'll have a shower."

"Are you sure?" He asked as he helped her to her feet.

She clutched at his sleeve to steady herself and nodded. "Mhm."

He stepped away from her and turned towards the bedroom. He really didn't want to leave her, not like this. She was naked and bruised all over and he felt unsettled just turning away from her for a second.

"Orrie."

He turned to the sound of her voice. She was standing next to the bath, holding his jacket closed around her. Her face was sheepish and she was playing with one of the buttons on the jacket, not looking him in the face. "Could you... uh- could you help me into the bath?" She looked up at him when she finished speaking, eyes shy and expression cautious.

He'd never seen her like this, so shy and unsure, and he didn't really know what to do. He nodded. "'Course." He moved towards her.

She smiled at him nervously. "Thanks," she mumbled. He held her forearm and took her weight as she stepped over the bath.

He wished he hadn't looked. He really wished he hadn't but he had. He looked to make sure she wasn't going to slip on the edge of the bath and he saw a trail of dry blood on the inside of her thigh.

"Wallie." He breathed in horror. She paused, one foot in the bath and one on the floor, looking up at him. She followed his gaze.

She looked back at him. "It's fine. I'm fine." He wasn't convinced at all and neither was she from the look on her face.

He nodded, not wanting to say anything to offend or scare her. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." She replied all too quickly.

He nodded again and helped her the rest of the way into the bath. "Do you need anything else? At all?" He was so nervous around her, stuttering on every word.

She smiled. "No. That should be fine." She said. He nodded and left the room.

* * *

She watched him walk out of the room, closing the door behind him. She waited for the _click_ and then breathed out in relief. She dropped the jacket onto the floor and immediately looked down at her thighs. She touched the bruises there and her fingers brushed against the dry blood.

With Orion now gone, she allowed a new wave of tears to fall from her eyes.

She closed her eyes and breathed in, slowly. She reached up to the shower head and turned it on, flinching when the cold water hit her skin but she didn't move out of the way of the jet. She didn't know why, but she felt like punishing herself. For allowing herself to be used like that? For losing her dignity? For allowing Orion to see just how broken she was? _Yes. To all of them._

The water heated slowly and she breathed in the heat, allowing the steam to fill her lungs. It was almost painful but not really.

She grabbed a bottle of lotion and a loofah and started scrubbing the sweat and grime from her body, careful of the bruises on her hips and breasts. She watched as the white suds swirled on her skin before dissipating under the harsh stream of water.

She moved the loofah toward her thighs and she watched as the water that swirled down the drain turned pink, a new steady stream of blood seemed to be making its way down the inside of her leg with the gravity of standing. Her hips hurt, her breasts hurt, her neck felt tight but it was between her thighs that hurt the most.

She washed the alcoholic smell out of her hair and reached up to turn the water off. Breathing a heavy sigh, she clutched the side of the bath and slowly edged each leg over, wincing at the movement.

She went to the full length mirror in the corner and looked at her reflection for several minutes, watching the curls making their way back up into her hair after being flattened by the water, following each drop as it dripped from her fingers onto the tiled floor. Her skin was red and flushed from the searing water and she could see read scratches from where she had scrubbed furiously at the dirt on her body. Her dirt. Her porcelain skin was stained with a spattering of coloured bruises. Bluish-black marks lay across her breasts and hips in the shape of hands. A scatter-graph; mapping where he had wanted her most.

Her gaze floated up to her face. Glamour Charms would have to be used. Dark rings of her fatigue wound around her eyes and the last remnants of mascara that had held onto her lashes under the water made her look gaunter still. She looked like a corpse. And then, of course, was the black bruise that covered her right eye. It lined the bone beneath her eye and moved around her face in a sickening purple colour, the middle a garish yellow that made her gag.

She rushed to the toilet once more and heaved yet more bile from her stomach, wincing at the burning in her throat and nostrils that the acid left. It clung to her breath and the air around her and the smell made her sway slightly. Her hand reached out lazily, felling around for some loo roll and wiping her mouth and nose with it. She dropped it into the toilet and flushed.

She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body, heading for the bedroom to dress. Orion wasn't there and she assumed he'd gone to shower in the guest bedroom. She wondered about him. They hadn't said anything about the night before; about what had happened. About what he'd seen. About the kiss. Had she made that up in her head?

Whatever she'd drank the night before was strong enough to have her hallucinating, so maybe she had made the whole thing up. She didn't want to think, not right now. Her head hurt enough already and she just wanted to go back to sleep.

She turned to her dresser and started pulling out a corset.

* * *

She opened the doors to the dining room where most of the family was having breakfast. Alphard, Melania, and Orion looked up at her, smiled and turned back to their food. Cygnus looked up, smiled and didn't tear his gaze from her.

His smile was one of smug success and she felt herself frozen. She was shrinking and growing and the world was closing in on her. Her breath was short. She couldn't look away from those filthy eyes. She was going to die, he was going to kill her.

 _Ahem._

She looked up to Orion who was apparently standing now, holding a chair out for her. And the walls weren't closing in. She was okay, sort of. She nodded minutely and sat down silently.

Alphard cleared his throat. "So we didn't see much of you last night, 'Burga. Where'd you disappear to?" He asked lightly.

She froze, not knowing at all what to say. Orion saw her panic and seemed to step in. "Must have been rather tired from all that dancing, I expect?"

She looked up at everyone, realising all of their gazes were on her and nodded mutely. It seemed to satisfy them and they went back to enjoying their breakfast.

The door opened again and Pollux walked in. He walked to the head of the table and sat down, taking a newspaper from the house elf at his chair and opening it silently.

After a few minutes of clinking silverware, he dropped the Prophet to the table. "Rather good night, don't you think?"

"It was wonderful. I'm sure Lucretia would have stayed longer had Ignatius not had other engagements, but she did enjoy it." Said Melania with a smile.

He nodded. "Yes of course. I haven't seen much of her since they married but she does seem quite happy."

"Oh she is," Melania said, "and Arcturus is quite taken with Ignatius so Lucretia and I see each other quite often. I'll have to bring her over properly at some point." They continued talking whilst everyone else was silent. Walburga couldn't hear them. Cygnus was staring into the top of her head as she ate. She stared into her lap with wide eyes. She could feel his gaze, feel it burning through her skull, feel her chest constricting further with every breath.

She stood, her chair screeching along the floor behind her and directing all eyes to her. She looked at all of them, her chest heaving with panic and she ran from the room.

Cygnus smiled to himself, "Think I'll go see if she's alright." He said, excusing himself from the room.

Orion's eyes widened immediately and his jaw set. He scrambled up from the table and ran to follow him.


	4. Stormed

Orion stormed from the room to find the entrance hall empty. _How had they gotten away so fast?_ But then he heard voices.

"Please! No! Don't come any closer! Please!" Walburga seemed to be switching between pleading cries and frantic shouting. He broke out into a run, following the corridor that led behind the staircase.

Cygnus, his back to Orion, was backing Walburga into a dead end and she was almost in tears. Orion's eyes stormed black. "You get the _fuck_ away from her, right now!" He struggled to keep his voice quiet and calm so that he didn't scare Walburga.

Cygnus' head whipped around to see Orion. He gave a charming grin. "Orrie. Cousin. Good to see you! Hope you found a pretty bird to keep you company last night."

"Get away from her." He said lowly.

"Oh don't mind 'Burga. Think she had a bit much to drink last night." He said lightly and turned back to Walburga. " _Right?_ "

Orion stepped closer still and slowly reached his arm out toward Walburga. "It's alright, Wallie. Would you like to come with me?" He asked, choosing his words carefully.

She nodded hurriedly but didn't move any closer. Cygnus was still in between them. "Look, Orrie. Why don't you go finish your breakfast? I'll take care of my sister." He said, shooting Orion another charming smile.

Orion saw red. He stormed up to Cygnus, swung his fist back and punched Cygnus square in the jaw _._ Walburga screamed and Cygnus stumbled back, his hand coming up to touch his jaw.

He laughed, slowly without a trace of humour. "That was a bad idea, Orrie." And Cygnus launched himself at Orion. They tumbled to the ground, Cygnus straddling Orion, getting in punch after punch until Orion hit him in the side of the head. There was no thought for wands, no thought of the power they could have used. There was no thought at all. Just complete, unadulterated rage, an animalistic frenzy of fist and nail.

Walburga was screaming for help and Orion could hear distant footsteps. Then he felt a hand on the back of his collar.

Arcturus dragged Orion to his feet and he saw Pollux bodily restraining Cygnus. The elder man looked furious. "Now what in _Merlin's name_ is going on?!"

Cygnus gave humourless breath of laughter. "A minor disagreement." He said quietly, tonguing the bloody split in his lip.

Pollux threw Cygnus against the wall. "A minor disagreement? STUPID CHILD. You do NOT behave like such filth, like _beggars._ And you _never_ behave like that in front of a woman! Insolent child! Get out of my sight!" Pollux's anger seethed in his voice and Orion saw a small fear in Cygnus' eye. The young man scrambled to his feet and walked quickly from the corridor.

Arcturus released Orion. "Do you want to tell us what happened?" Arcturus' voice was quieter but Orion could tell he was just as livid. He looked around, Alphard was there, looking incredibly confused and Irma and Melania were standing slightly further back, hands on various parts of their faces in dismay.

"It wasn't him, Daddy."

Everyone looked over to the girl that was still pinning herself to the wall. "Cygnus insulted me, Orion was just protecting my honour."

Irma stepped forward, laying one hand on Pollux's arm and extended the other to Walburga. She took her mother's hand and stepped through to where Melania was standing.

Pollux looked to Orion, an eyebrow raised. "And this is true, is it?"

Orion nodded.

Pollux took a heavy sigh. "If you'll excuse me, I need to speak to my son." They watched him leave in the direction that Cygnus went. Irma didn't look him in the eye as he went and Orion knew that Cygnus was in for a beating. _Good. Let the man forget himself, let the man beat him half to death._

Acturus looked back to Orion. "Come with me," and he had no choice but to follow.

* * *

They were sat in Arcturus' study back at Grimmauld Place. After making sure Walburga was calm enough, Melania thought it best to head home as soon as possible. Arcturus hadn't said a word but had corralled Orion into his study. He'd poured himself a tumbler of Firewhiskey from the liquor cabinet and turned to sit in the high backed armchair. Orion was sat on the sofa, playing with the skin around his nails. They'd sat in silence for almost ten minutes.

Orion finally looked up and immediately regretted. Arcturus was far from the composure he had at Black Estate. He was staring at Orion with a black rage. His face was lined and his eyes were hard. He was tapping the arm of the chair menacingly. Twenty years old, Orion was now, and he felt no older than five, sitting before his father.

"Father, I-"

"I can't believe it." Arcturus interrupted, shaking his head. "What, in the name of Salazar, were you thinking?" He stood and started pacing. "You know, I've always been proud. It is Pollux's children that are the nuisances. Mine? Never. I'd never have thought it! You _idiot_ child!"

Orion very rarely heard Arcturus say he was proud of him, but he didn't think now was the time to be swelling with pride. "It wasn't me-"

"And what's worse? You put Walburga in danger!" His voice rose with a dangerous anger with every word he said. "Do you have no respect? No _care_ for that poor woman?"

"Hey!" Orion stood with a new anger. "I'm the only who seems to care at all about he-"

Arcturus' hand connected with his face and he stumbled back into the sofa. "You _dare_ to me like that!" He shouted.

Orion didn't look at him. Some men were to be challenged but, unlike Cygnus, he knew not to anger his father any further.

"Arcturus?" They both looked to Melania's nervous face in the doorway. She was smiling, perhaps to diffuse Arcturus' ire, but her brown eyes were cautious. She approached him carefully, and rested a dark hand on his arm. "Calm down, darling."

"I am calm." He ground out. He wasn't calm at all. His eyes were fixed on Orion still.

She reached up to his jaw, pulling his face down to look at her. "Calm, darling. How about I fix you a drink, hmm?"

His whole being seemed to wane as he looked at her and nodded. She left him and wandered over to the liquor cabinet to refill his glass.

Arcturus looked back to where Orion was sitting on the couch and he sighed. "Do you want to tell me what actually happened?" He asked, sitting back down across from him.

"Walburga said, Cygnus insu-"

He stopped when Arcturus raised his hand. "I said what _actually_ happened." The elder man said pointedly.

Orion paused. He had no idea whether or not this was a good idea. Arcturus had never disappointed Orion. He was reserved and strict of course, and he was never afraid to beat Orion's behaviour back into perfection, but Orion trusted his father.

"I- I don't think it is… entirely appropriate with Mother in the room." He didn't know what he was doing. He really didn't want to tell them. He was buying himself time to think.

Melania turned from the liquor cabinet, a tumbler of whiskey and a glass of wine in hand and arched an eyebrow at her son. "I can assure you, darling, I've heard a fair few of inappropriate conversation in my time." She giggled at herself. "Your father once-"

"Ahem." She looked down at Arcturus who had pointedly cleared his throat and she suddenly seemed to remember herself. "Apologies," she said quietly and sat on the arm of Arcturus' chair.

Orion looked pleadingly at Arcturus. The man sighed and turned to the woman at his side. "If you could excuse us, Mel."

She narrowed her eyes at the both of them, obviously annoyed. She gave the whiskey to her husband, kissed him on the cheek and stood, walking from the room.

Arcturus watched her go and turned back to Orion upon hearing the door click shut. His eyes were concerned and he had a dark look on his face. "What happened, Orion?"

"He hurt her… Cygnus, he… last night, at the party, he got Walburga alone and he gave her… some drink, I don't know and he..." He trailed off, not able to finish.

"What did he do, Orion?" Arcturus' voice was raised, his face hard.

"He hurt her. He… he raped her." Orion said and finally looked up to see his father's face. He was anxious, he didn't have the slightest idea of how he might react. He was simultaneously prepared to get shouted down because "that's what a woman was for" and, at the same time, he was ready to storm Black Estate at his father's side, to save the poor girl. Whatever he thought, Arcturus' reaction was significantly underwhelming.

The man sighed. "Fuck," he whispered to himself. He stood from the armchair and once again made his way to the liquor cabinet. He came back and handed a whiskey to Orion. "Here. You'll need something strong." He said as he stood in front of where Orion sat.

Orion sipped at his drink and waited for something. He didn't know what exactly.

Arcturus sighed again heavily. "However Cygnus may have acted," he spoke quietly, "there is no justification for your actions. You behaved like an animal. I cannot stress how disgusting it is to see you, of noble Black stock, throw yourself around like the common. You were born to better, so you should make damn well sure you behave accordingly in the future." He finished and went to his desk, away from his son.

Orion took this as a dismissal and quietly got up off the couch, walking over to the door.

"And, Orion?"

He turned back to see his Father's blank expression staring back at him, and he saw the sincerity in the man's eyes. "I hope you beat the fucking shit out of him."


	5. Sitting

_**A/N:** Lmao so I am not Vietnamese or like cultured at all. I am pale and Irish and white and need help so if there are any Vietnamese speakers or like actual Vietnamese people please like help me I literally just used google translate god help me._

* * *

Orion had been at work for too long. Sitting behind a desk, sorting through reports from the Catcher's Division in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He'd been reading through one particular report for the better part of two hours now and he'd gotten no further than the second paragraph.

He didn't want to be here, at this Merlin forsaken job, reading reports that he had no real interest in. It's not like he needed the job, he could just stand up and blast his table of the floor right now and he'd be fine. He didn't need any job; he was rich. Orion sighed. Now he was just sulking. No he didn't need this job but his father wanted him to work to a prestigious position within the Ministry. The Catcher's Division wasn't even that boring and at the tender age of twenty, he was already Acting Assistant Head (thanks to the power that came with a name like Black) so he knew he was just being petty.

Truth was, he couldn't stop thinking of her. Walburga, all alone, all hurt. He'd seen Cygnus around the Ministry enough to at least feel comfortable that she wasn't spending much time in his company. But he couldn't stop thinking about her, about how she had woken up so _normal_. How she just seemed so herself, as if nothing was wrong. No one should be acting normally after something like that.

But then, he thought, she wasn't acting normal. She didn't even last one meal in the same room as Cygnus. She had been fine and then she just wasn't. He'd never seen her like that before and it frightened him deeply.

And there'd been that kiss. That infuriatingly mesmerising kiss. Sure, he'd kissed girls. In fact, he'd gone quite a bit further than mere kisses but never had it been like that. He was convinced that nothing had ever felt that good. They hadn't mentioned it, they'd acted as if it hadn't happened. Maybe she didn't remember it. She was heavily drugged at the time. It probably wasn't even her.

"Oi, Black, where you been all day?"

Orion was broken out of his thoughts and looked up to find Marcus McKinnon walking to his desk at the back of the large communal office. Marcus was tanned man with sandy blonde hair, a loud laugh and an insatiable Cockney accent.

"We missed your sweet arse at lunch, love." And he often talked to Orion as if they were lovers.

Orion smiled, and sat back in his chair. "I have no doubt you did, it's quite a nice arse." He said with his charming Black grin.

"You bet, the lads are getting drinks later. Sphinxtail Inn. I hope you'll be joining us?" Marcus said with a wink. "Per'aps catch yourself a pretty bird to have for the night?"

"Um… I have quite a bit of work to get done, Marc. Some other time?" He explained.

"You've been working all day, Black. We all have. Come out, we'll play a few hands, win a few galleons." He said, seating himself on the edge of the desk and lying back across it dramatically, sending a few papers and folders off the desk and onto the floor. "You know how lonely I get you without you." He added with a mock pout.

Orion narrowed his eyes at him. "You're lying on top of my reports." Marcus just continued to pout. "Fine. I'll go. But later. I, unlike your lazy arse, have work to do."

Marcus got up with a satisfied smile. "Ah good boy, Black!" He said, ruffling up Orion's hair. He started to walk away but turned at the last second. "Oh hey, what happened to you at that ball your Uncle had? You disappeared half way through the night and I've barely seen you since."

He knew. Good gods above, he knew. _No he didn't. Don't be an idiot._ "Nothing of merit." Orion smiled happily.

"Hope you snagged yourself something pretty?" Marcus asked, smiling. "I know I did." He gave a lecherous grin.

"Delightful." Orion said, trying his hardest not to let on that he had not 'snagged' anything.

* * *

Orion threw back another shot of tequila and slammed the glass back to the bar. A chorus of grunts and breaths sounded as the group of men felt the satisfying burn of alcohol together.

"I never do tire of good booze." Said Evander from Orion's left and he sat back as the others cheered their agreement.

Orion leant back against the bar of the Sphinxtail Inn where Marcus had dragged him for a night with a group of other men from the ministry. All of them had belonged to a large group of friends from Slytherin and Orion felt a sort of peace knowing he could slip back into his practised quietness around his friends.

"She's always been a pretty thing that Rosier girl." Travers said loudly. "I wouldn't mind having her for a wife," the man said, his eyes slightly sweet and wistful.

Dariel Rosier narrowed his eyes in Travers' direction. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

"Well you don't have to worry about marrying. You've got yourself a wife already." Marcus announced, grimacing slightly at the stresses of wedding.

Orion watched as a small smile started tug at the corners of Rosier's mouth when his wife was mentioned. "Yes, I do." He gave into the smile and wore it smugly to the other men.

Evander shook his head incredulously. "I still can't believe you are married." He said with a thick French accent. "Next you'll be having children."

"Says you, how old's your boy? One? Besides," a coy smile played at Rosier's mouth, "we've actually been thinking about trying for an heir."

Cheers erupted around the bar and Rosier received a lot congratulatory pats on the back. Orion raised another shot glass into the air. "A toast?" He suggested.

The group raised their glasses and chorused a loud "Rosier!" to which Travers followed with "may he and his sperm have luck!"

Evander cast his gaze onto Orion, "And what about you, Black? Any special girl you have your eye on?" He asked, arching an eyebrow.

He smiled, "No, afraid not, Lestrange." He didn't. He didn't have his eye on anyone. But his mind had not been off Walburga for a week. Her well-being plagued him constantly, his mind tirelessly thinking of different situations she could have gotten herself into. Once again, his thoughts drifted to that mind-blowing kiss. To those lips that seemed to dominate and submit to him all at once.

A clearing throat brought him out of his reverie. "Black?" His friend laughed at Orion's absent-mindedness. "You got yourself a friend, sweet-pea." He looked up to Marcus beside him, who was pointing in the direction of the barman.

The barman was carrying a small black owl towards him and he immediately recognised it as Walburga's owl, Reaper.

He met the man and took the owl off him over the bar. "Black, right? That thing was damn near close to breaking my window." The barman said, obviously annoyed.

Orion paid the man no notice and with a brief "thanks" untied the letter, walking back to the group. He propped the bird onto his shoulder and pulled the parchment free of the envelope. The writing was rushed and scribbled, and the parchment was yellowed in places with tear stains.

 _Orrie-_

 _I don't know what's happening to me. I feel awful. I didn't know who to go to. I'm sorry. You don't have to come. I'm sorry._

It wasn't signed and the letter size was sporadic. She was panicking, he didn't know why, but she was. He read through the letter three times, not knowing what to do.

"Are you okay, Black?"

He looked up to all the eyes staring at him, confusedly. Marcus lent over his shoulder, "What you got there, lovely?" He said, trying to read the parchment in his hand. Orion clutched it to his chest, staring around at the men.

"Nothing, I… I need to go, I have… there's someone I need to see." He grabbed his cloak from the bar, Reaper giving an indignant hoot at the sudden move, and sped from the bar, letter in hand.

"What on Earth do you s'pose that's about?" Said Marcus, looking around at all the bewildered faces.

* * *

He apparated straight to Black Estate and all but ran up the winding drive to the Manor. He wrapped the ornate knocker repeatedly until a house elf answered with an ugly face peering up at him. He didn't wait for an invitation and barged past the elf into the entrance hall. He stopped suddenly, realising that he was in a person's house without them knowing. He also realised that Walburga hadn't actually said that she was here.

He whirled around to face the elf. "Where is she?" He said, attempting to sound menacing but it came out in a sort concerned panic. "Walburga, where is she?"

"Tippy thinks young Mistress is in her chambers, Master." It said, cowering. He left without another word, running up the staircase.

His mind raced with what he might find upon entering her room. Images of her after Cygnus had gotten to her. _No. Cygnus was out._ Orion knew that. He found himself at the first floor, turning left and carrying on down until he found another much smaller staircase. He reached her door on the second floor before throwing it open.

She wasn't there, the room was empty. And then he heard retching noises coming from the bathroom. He moved through the room and found the en-suite door closed.

He knocked on the door, gently. "Wallie, you in there?" He asked.

"Orrie?" Her voice croaked from behind the door.

"Can I come in?" He asked, tentatively.

"Please." She said, every word seeming to cause her pain.

He pushed the door open and found her small frame curled around the toilet bowl. She had obviously gotten the áo dài she was wearing off hastily as the top half hung around her hips and her corset underneath had been loosened.

He hurried over to her, crouching next to the toilet. "What happened? Are you okay?"

She shook her head slowly. "No, I don't know what's wrong. I was…" she took a breath, "at dinner with mother and..." another breath, "father and my stomach-" She heaved a dry sob. "It hurts so bad, Orrie." She wept, her English becoming primitive in her state.

"Okay, it's alright." He shushed her, rubbing a hand over her back. He cringed as she heaved again, emptying copious amounts of bile into the toilet. He extended his other hand to her forehead and felt a burning heat there. "You're burning up."

She spat the stomach acid from her mouth, "It's that stuff that Cygnus gave me. It..." breath, "it has to be. Stomach hasn't..." breath, "stopped hurting since." Talking for more than four words at a time seemed to be taking an enormous amount of effort.

He took some loo roll from the wall and wiped her mouth with it. He threw it in the toilet, flushed and brought his hand up to her face. "You'll be alright, we'll see a healer-"

"No! We can't! No one can know..." breath, "I can't. People will ask questions. They'll know I'm-" Her voice faltered here, "spoiled." She looked at him with exhausted eyes and a pleading forehead. "It would ruin Father's name." She said, laboriously.

"Well, funnily enough, there are things that are more important than-"

" _Xin vui lòng._ " She said no more, pleading with him in their mother tongue, and giving him a look that made him want to curl her into a ball and stroke her until she smiled.

He nodded. "Alright, but, your Mother at least. I'll get her, she'll know what to do, won't she?" He asked her hurriedly, continuing in Vietnamese.

She smiled in relief, "okay." She brought her hand up to his cheek, mirroring him. She moved her thumb over his jaw, brushing his stubble and staring right into his eyes.

Her fingers put him in a trance, "Alright," he said slowly, "I'll go and get your mother then." She smiled and nodded.

He stood and walked from the room.


	6. Found

_**A/N:** Omg whaat? Another chapter so soon? Yeah, I have like this evening to myself before work placement starts and I have to fly off to Spain so it's update time! Also I'm definitely Irish and not Vietnamese so if you speak Vietnamese, correct me because I literally don't speak a word of it, I just have a strong headcanon. _

_BEFORE any bilingual people come at me with "people don't just slip between languages like that, you're so wrong" come at me binch because I chop and change languages in the same sentence henny._

* * *

Orion found himself in the hallway of the second floor of Black Estate, suddenly realising he had no idea where in the house Irma Black was. He turned quickly and hurried down the stairs at the end of the hall.

He wondered what he would say to the woman. What could she be allowed to know? What was safe to tell her? Walburga didn't want her to know, that much was clear and Orion supposed he would just have to follow Walburga's lead and rely on a skill that he'd perfected in the company of his family: lying. Merlin knew that skill had served him excellently throughout his life.

He found himself in the entrance hall and walked to the double doors on his right. He opened the door without knocking and found Irma curling elegantly against the end of a chaise lounge, talking to Pollux who stood above her. They both turned to him, looks of surprise on their faces - a decidedly affronted look from Pollux.

"Orion? I wasn't aware you were coming," She said, a small note of dismay in her voice. "Let alone already here." She added in a murmur.

"Apologies." He said hurriedly with a nod to Pollux, recognising the patriarch of the house. "Aunt Irma, I couldn't- borrow you for a moment, could I?"

Irma sputtered her shock and obvious disapproval of Orion being there with no invitation and immediately looked up to Pollux, who raised his brow at him. Orion suddenly realised what he said had not come out anything at all like he had meant.

"Only," he hurried on, "Walburga owled me – she's quite unwell and I think you'd best take a look." He said, aiming for his politest voice and most innocent face.

Pollux took a step toward him, "I'll go, if sh-"

"No!"

Pollux looked to him again, eyes wide and brow furrowed at the outburst. Obviously the elder man hadn't quite forgiven Orion for the fight between Cygnus and himself.

"She asked for Irma specifically, she's not in any fit state for you to see her, I'm afraid." He said, the lie rolling off his tongue before he even had time to think.

Pollux just nodded slowly at him, sighed and gave Irma a nod, allowing her to follow Orion out of the room. They left the drawing room and hastened up the steps, hurrying their way to Walburga's room. Stepping through the large room, Orion opened the bathroom door to find Walburga wheezing heavily, her eyes closed and her head resting against the toilet bowl.

Irma pushed past Orion and rushed to kneel beside Walburga, picking up a cloth as she went. She took her wand from her long, grey sleeve and whispered a muttered "aguament", soaking the cloth before pressing it to Walburga's head.

"Walburga? Walburga, stay awake for me." Orion stood and watched dumbly as Irma's attention was completely commanded by Walburga. He'd never thought Irma capable of such tender acts. She was never cold or uncaring, but she had always stayed in the background; the quiet, pretty woman on Pollux's arm.

Now she busied herself, moving about the room and pushing a cold compress onto her daughter's head, holding it up with Walburga's own hand. She moved away again and wet a hairbrush under the running water at the sink and continued to brush through Walburga's thick curls.

All the while she kept up a steady stream of chatter. "It can't have been any food, or both your father and I would be in the same state. Perhaps the flu. Anything you might have drank at the ball would have flushed out of your system by now."

Orion's heart stopped for a beat, and for one awful moment he thought she knew what had happened, until he realised Irma had only been referring to the copious amounts of alcohol that Walburga had consumed that night. He breathed relief again.

"Oh Walburga. Whatever will we do with you?"

Walburga's breathing seemed to have calmed somewhat, but there was still that awful wheeze that filled the room with every breath. She coughed slightly before breathing out laboured words. "My corset hurts, Mother. I need to… need to take it off."

Irma stopped running the water through Walburga's hair and shot a furtive glance at where Orion was still standing at the door. She looked back down at where Walburga was. "Yes. Yes, alright." She said, nodding.

She moved around and knelt in front of Walburga. "Can you stand?" She asked, bringing a hand to Walburga's face, stroking her cheek softly with her thumb.

Walburga nodded and made to stand up. She pressed her hand to the toilet seat to push herself up but her hand slipped and she crumbled back to the floor, whimpering with fatigue.

"Shhh. Alright darling, alright." Irma said, steadying Walburga. She looked back up to Orion. "I'll need you to help me, Orion."

He nodded, feeling stupid for not helping her sooner. He moved forward and bent low, resting a hand under Walburga's shoulders and another arm under her thighs. Irma questioned him silently and he nodded. "I've got her."

She nodded and stepped away so he could lift her gently. He carried the half-dressed Walburga back to her room, walking to the bed and lowering her onto the pillows gently. He didn't feel right about this at all. He was taught never to allow himself to see this much of an unmarried woman, much less carry one. But he supposed he would rather it him than anyone else. Then he also supposed that what he felt about this situation didn't matter at all. He cursed himself for his idiocy.

He made sure she was comfortable, Irma arranging pillows around her and went to move away. Before he could get off the bed though, Walburga's hand shot out to his tie, yanking him back down at the same time as she wretched, spewing more bile down his clothes.

She looked up at him. "Oh dear, I'm sorry, Orrie. I didn-"

"Shh, it's alright. It's not like I'm going to run out of clothes," he said softly, stroking her hair gently as if she were a child.

Irma breathed a small sigh, "I am sorry, Orion. I'll have Ribby clean that for you." She turned back to Walburga. "Ribby," she spoke aloud to the room.

A house elf _cracked_ his apparition.

"Take Orion's waist coat and tie down to be washed and bring me a basin of cold water," she ordered, keeping her eyes on Walburga as she spoke. "And several face cloths. Quick!" She added as an afterthought.

Orion muttered a 'thanks' and unbuttoned his waistcoat, throwing it to the house elf.

Irma was pulling back the covers to keep Walburga cool, her daughter an exhausted rag doll in her arms. Irma pushed her forward gently and started pulling at the lacing of her corset. Orion looked the other way, not wanting to see Walburga so bare. He knew he had seen it all before, only last week in fact, but _she_ might not have wanted him to see, not to mention how conscious he was of Irma's presence in the room.

She unclasped the corset from the front and took it away from Walburga's body, Walburga immediately taking in a bigger breath and letting her head fall back against the headboard. Irma brought a light sheet up to cover her chest but Walburga batted it away haphazardly. "Too warm. Tôi mệt quá." She breathed, finding the language of her childhood easier as she was babied.

"Alright darling, alright." Irma said in soothing tones.

Orion moved away from the bed, not wanting to let on that he had in fact seen Walburga far more naked before but she reached out to him once more. She didn't say anything to him, or look at him at all. She just rested her head back onto the headboard, her eyes closed, her hand a delicate china piece in his.

Irma watched their hands for a while and Orion found himself wondering what she was thinking. The woman seemed to blink herself back to the present and started to push away Walburga's skirts, whispering comfort to her daughter in Vietnamese.

Once she had stripped away the last of Walburga's trousers and stockings, pushing them to the floor, Irma stood and looked directly into Orion's eyes.

She was a small woman. A tiny, dainty little thing but her stare carried more threat than even her husband. It was a look he had seen in Walburga's eye, and a look he had hated in Cygnus'.

He nervously shifted under her gaze.

"May we talk... _outside?_ " She said, no question in her voice at all.

He nodded, "of course," and followed her from the room and into the corridor beyond.

As soon as Walburga's door closed, Irma turned to him. "What's wrong with her?"

"I- I don't know. I'm sorry, I-" He stuttered and fumbled over his words. He couldn't tell her. _Could he?_ No. He couldn't. But what if the vile poison Cygnus had given her at the ball was doing something horrible to Walburga? What if Irma knew how to stop it? "Perhaps she drank something?"

"She can't have. Pollux only keeps the finest of liquors. And it certainly doesn't look like any flu I've seen." She said, waving a dismissive hand. "If anything, it looks like Dragon Pox but there's no rash, thank Merlin," she muttered to herself.

"No. I mean, perhaps she has had something… she shouldn't have. Something she… thought was alcohol." He said slowly, hoping against hope that he was coming across more theoretical than he sounded.

"What do you mean?" She asked with a furrowed brow.

"Well maybe she found a… substance. Maybe she thought it was a drink she hadn't had before and… took something that was actually poisonous?" As soon as he said it he trailed off and he knew, _he knew_ he had done it wrong. He had said _something_ wrong.

Irma's face fell and that threatening glare entered her eye again. "What do you know?"

"No- nothing. I promise!"

How was such a tiny woman doing this to him? How was this quiet, gracious wife suddenly the backing him into a wall with eyes that would surly stab him if he looked away?

"What. Do. You. Know?" She said much slower and much more ferociously.

He swallowed and he knew he was finished. "Someone spiked her drink at the ball. She didn't know who." He hated himself. He hated himself for telling Irma against Walburga's wishes. All of a sudden he was reminded of just how _late_ he was, of how he didn't get there in time, how he didn't save her. He could have and he should have but he _didn't_ and she had suffered for it. And he hated himself. "I'm sorry," he said, quietly.

Irma didn't say anything for a moment and he had not the slightest guess of how much or how little she might have just worked out. "I want you to go to the family bathroom upstairs. There is a chest in there full of potions and ingredients. You will bring them to me, and we'll see what we can do." She said, her voice soft and yet devoid of emotion.

He nodded and turned to walk quickly to the next set of stairs, passing an ugly, old house elf on his way, its arms laden with towels and bowl of water bigger than itself.


	7. Composure

_**A/N:** This one is longish bc I only just stopped being busy with being a professional in the workplace. I'm so grown up honestly. And I'm sorry it took so long but I was abroad tryna be cute. Anyway, enjoy_

* * *

Orion was sat, in a freshly cleaned suit, on the lavish sofa in the drawing room of Black Estate. He was sat back into the cushion of the sofa, his left arm laying gracefully across the back of it, the picture of aristocracy and composure. But the erratic, twitchy bouncing of the foot that rested on his other knee and the gentle tapping of his finger against the mug in his hand screamed his apprehension. The right half of his form was basked in the sunny glow of morning shining into the room through the large bay window, illuminating the floating dust in the air as it danced around his eyelashes and touched his pretty iris with streaks of a grey so light they seemed white.

He lifted the mug to his lips and sipped at the black coffee, no sugar. He frowned slightly, not used to the way that this house elf made coffee.

An awkward silence blanketed the room. Irma sat against the back of a black chaise lounge that faced the fireplace, pulling a thread back and forth through a piece of fabric, sewing a peaceful rose into the cloth and pretending not to notice the strained quietness.

Cygnus was silently reading a newspaper, mirroring Orion's position on the sofa opposite him, his lips pursed and his expression light.

Pollux had resigned himself to paperwork in his office the night before, and Cygnus had come home late; the only sign as to his presence in the house were the slow footsteps and the closing of his door on the other side of the corridor from where Orion and Irma were blotting Walburga's head with a wet cloth.

Orion had stayed up for most of the night, drifting lazily through varying states of consciousness and from the way Irma's eyes were blinking lazily at the embroidery in her hands, she had stayed awake through the night trying to keep Walburga's temperature down.

It had seemed to make a difference, to Orion's relief. After grueling hours of trying different combinations of Pain Relieving Potions and Fever Relief Droughts and Health Elixirs, Walburga had become much more responsive. As the sun rose in the early hours of morning, she had started to laugh at his bad jokes, coughing regularly and rather violently, but she had been talking back to them and breathing much more safely.

So here he sat now, taking a morning of rest after the long night, at Irma's request. He cleared his throat and both Cygnus and Irma looked up at him before he spoke. "Where is Uncle Pollux?" He asked Irma, completely ignoring Cygnus.

"He woke early." She said, turning back to her embroidery. "He's at the Ministry. One of Minister Tuft's advisories needed him for something or other."

He nodded and turned back to his mug, taking another sip of coffee. He felt a burning from where Cygnus was still staring at him.

"And what about Walburga?" The other man asked nonchalantly.

Orion looked up to find Cygnus' eyes and his expression blank.

Irma spoke again. "She's upstairs, I believe. She's quite unwell at the moment. She's better than she was last night mind, but she's by no means healthy." She said, completely missing the carnal, vicious stares between the two men.

"Perhaps I'll go check on her." Cygnus said lightly, making to get up.

Orion didn't say anything but stood up to his full height and stared savagely into Cygnus. "I will."

Cygnus was silent but a menacing smile stretched slowly across his face as he stared straight back at Orion. He settled back into the chair and started to read the newspaper again, the smile never sliding from his face.

Orion turned, fuming, and walked from the room into the entrance hall, closing the doors behind him.

He raged his way into the entrance hall. _That bastard. That sick pig. I'll kill him._ He paced up and down, not stopping as he punched at the air in front of him in his rage. _I'll kill him. I'll rip the smirk from his face. I'll rip his whole fucking jaw off._

A melodic laughter floated through his anger fueled fog. He turned to the sound, finding Walburga walking slowly down the large staircase. She lent heavily on the banister but her hair was brushed and her grey eyes didn't look nearly as heavy as they did the night before. "What _are_ you doing?" She said, a small laugh to her voice.

He pushed the unfathomable rage down, suppressing it somewhere in his gut, with a single breath and met her at the bottom of the stairs. "You shouldn't be out of bed, you know. You need rest, you're hardly fit to-"

"Oh, please don't lock me up. I'm fine, I am and even if I'm not, I can definitely handle the stairs." She said, wobbling against the banister.

He gave her a sympathetic smile, and brought an arm out to steady her. "Oh, _definitely_." He said, a wry grin on his face. "What do you expect to be able to do? You can barely stand, Wallie."

"Oh don't be so dramatic," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "Before I do anything, I need to find Mother." She made towards the doors of the drawing room but Orion reached out to stop her.

She flinched slightly at his touch and he wanted to set himself on fire for making her even slightly uncomfortable.

She swallowed her instinctual fear and looked at him quizzically, "What is it?"

He hesitated, wondering if it would scare her. "Cygnus is in there."

She nodded slowly and turned her gaze to the floor, and ugly, red blush creeping up her neck. He hated this. He hated this shame ridden Walburga who couldn't function when Cygnus was mentioned. He hated the man who warped Walburga like this.

He picked up her hand and rested it on his arm. "How about we go for a walk, hm?"

She didn't look up, instead nodding at the floor. He steered her in the direction of the kitchens, her hands clutching at his jacket sleeve quite a bit tighter than they held the banister.

* * *

The trees of Delamere were red and yellow, auburn bushes painting a fire against the clear blue sky. Branches lay barren in the middle, and red leaves bloomed at the end of their bowing twigs, a yellow-orange leaf sprinkling down to the forest floor and crunching under Orion's boot.

"Oh, Marcus is brilliant! He was on the quidditch team so Alphard used to have him around a lot. The things that he would say!" Walburga said, a laugh bubbling out of her mouth.

Orion chuckled. "You wouldn't believe the things he gets away with at work. You have to love him though."

She chuckled. "I remember when you both first came to Hogwarts when I was in fourth year. Such a little boy you were." She said, leaning into his side and smiling. "Obviously not so little anymore, I suppose."

"Ah the wonders of puberty. I believe they did a number on you though. You used to be a little doll. Look at you now!" She smiled up at him, waiting for him to continue. "Now you're a slightly taller doll."

The smile dropped off her face and she shoved him playfully. "Excuse me, sir. You are looking at a _woman!_ " She said, trying to hide the smirk that was re-growing across her jaw.

A bark of laughter escaped his throat. "Of course, M'lady. A true woman."

"I hope that's not sarcasm I detect." She said, a brow arched challengingly.

He chuckled. "In all honesty, you've grown up very well." He said, bashfully. "What with your…" He coughed. _Stop talking, Orion._ "… hips and um-" _You are officially a blithering idiot._ "… things."

She laughed loudly. "Well aren't you sweet." She said, with a mocking tone. "You've grown rather well too, Orrie."

"No! I just meant- you're… very um-"

Her laugh only grew louder. "Stop, Orrie, before you hurt yourself." She said. "And I think the words you were looking for "motherly assets" as Mother so eloquently put. Learning the wonders of puberty with her at age twelve was… precious." She said, laughing.

"Oh Merlin. I'd have loved to have Aunt Irma to talk to. Nothing is more painful than having my father talk you through the literal ins and outs of women." His bashfulness was forgotten as he cringed at the memory. "I don't think I've ever seen the man stumble over his words so much."

Her laugh startled birds out of the trees, unnoticed to both of them.

"And as if that's not bad enough – as if I'm not already _dying_ enough – he starts using his own experiences with _Mother_ as an example." He was laughing and shaking his head. "Do you have any idea of what kind of thing that does to a child?"

"Oh you poor dear," she said mockingly.

Their laughter waned and they fell into a comfortable silence. Walburga lent her head against Orion's shoulder and let out a contented sigh, a smile on her face.

They walked in silence for a while, letting the rushing of wind through the leaves sooth their clear minds and widen their deep smiles.

Orion only realised after about ten minutes that he had no idea where they were headed. "So where are we off to? The lake?"

She shook her head. "No, too cold for that." She said. She chewed the inside of her lip as she thought. Her face suddenly lit up and she stopped, turning to him. "We could go to the stables? Daddy's just bought a baby Unipeg to deal off to some beast collector in Germany. It's adorable. You have to come see!" Her eyes were bright and hopeful and Orion had nothing in his arsenal to prepare himself for how _cute_ she was.

He nodded. "Sounds great," he said hoarsely, his voice weak at the smile that stretched across her face.

She clutched his arm again and they set off, with more purpose in their stride, no need at all to walk, completely content to spend as much time as they could in each other's easy company.

* * *

Outside the shelter of amber trees, they walked along a grey dirt path, lined each side with black wooden fencing. The fencing lead them to the fields that spanned the back of the estate: two acres of rolling green grass, powdered silver with morning frost. The path forked and they followed the fencing to the left, reaching a glossy wide gate holding the paddock.

They walked through, along the flattened grass that lined the edge of the paddock until they reached the Tudor painted stables at the back.

"Oh he's lovely, the little lamb. Daddy says he's awfully shy." Walburga said as they walked into the gangway of the stables, tack rooms and loose boxes either side of them.

Orion looked around as various horses and other… _beings_ threw their manes and huffed at Orion and Walburga's presence. They were all creatures of beauty and power, not to mention the large price on each beast's head. Orion never thought of Pollux as one for expense but he supposed, if _he_ had the galleons, Orion wouldn't mind having creatures like this.

They stopped outside the second to last loose box on the left, Walburga still talking all sorts about some of the other creatures that Pollux was dealing.

"You should have seen the Manticore he had bought off a Scottish handler. The transaction was illegal of course, and Daddy had all sorts of problems trying to make it stop screeching and growling." She shuddered. "Terrifying thing that." She said.

She opened the black gate of the loose box, and Orion stepped back as the Hippogriff in the box next door clucked its beak indignantly.

Walburga turned to him, excitement in her eyes. "You'll have to be quiet," she said, "and step slowly too. He's frightened of everything."

She stepped ahead of him and slowly made her way to the brownish lump in the center of a heavy bed of hay. Orion saw the lump start to shift and move. A neck raised from where it was lying on folded fluffy legs.

It was a horse like creature, only uglier. It had a slender body, a bony rump and twig like legs covered in a downy, brown coat of fur. Tufts of fluffy fur stuck out in some places and feathery fluff floated to the floor from its back as it moved.

It blinked itself awake and immediately started into a standing position, eyeing Walburga carefully as she moved closer. She seemed confident enough, reaching her hand out to stroke the little creature.

It stretched its head forward, sniffing her outstretched hand and, after a moment, took a few steps towards her, resting its muzzle in the palm of her hand.

Walburga turned back towards Orion, a smile on her face. "Come on," she said, gesturing to the Unipeg. "He won't bite. In fact, he's pretty docile. You're quite tall though, so try to move slowly." She turned back to the Unipeg, who was now licking her fingers, and gave it a scratch beneath the chin, feather-like fur floating to the floor.

Orion stepped into the loose box tentatively, slowly making his way next to Walburga. The colt stiffened and snapped its head around to look directly at Orion. It took two paces back and started to unfurl great feathery wings from its back in hostile defense.

Walburga crouched low and reached forward to stroke the colt's muzzle again. "Shh, it's alright. It's only Orrie." She said, soothingly. "He won't hurt us."

Orion started at the comment. _Us. Not you; us._ She didn't seem to have noticed what she said and continued to stroke the fluffy Unipeg. He shook himself from thought and crouched down next to Walburga, so he was sitting on his heels.

"He's cute, isn't he?" She said, happily.

Orion nodded. "He seems to have a molting problem though."

She shook her head. "Unipegs are born with this fluffy, downy coat like a duckling. It will shed within the year and then his real colour will come through. Daddy says it will be another season after that until his horn is fully grown." She said, gesturing to pointy little spike, protruding from the Unipeg's forehead in a delicate curl.

"What colour will he be then?" He asked, eyeing up the feathery wings that looked comically large compared to the body they were attached to.

Walburga smiled again. "Well no one knows. You never know what colour it will be until the coat comes through and Daddy keeps talking about how some coats are worth more than others which is why selling a foal is always a gamble. They sometimes take the colour of one of their parents but you can never be sure."

"And this one has no parents?" Orion asked.

She sighed again. "No. His mother was poached. Lucky we have him really. He wouldn't have survived on his own." She stroked her hand over the fluffy brown ears and smiled when the colt tried to follow her hand with his tongue.

She turned to Orion. "Would you like to stroke him?"

His eyes widened. "Oh no. I'm quite alright."

"Oh please, he's not going to set you on fire." She said, her eyes narrowing. "Who knows? Maybe he'll soften that icy exterior."

"Icy exterior?" He said, raising one eyebrow.

She laughed. "Well you've got that whole dark, mysterious brooding thing going on." She said. "Cute animals should clear that right up."

He scoffed, feigning betrayal. "Well, excuse _you._ " He said, a smile creeping to his lips. "'Mysterious brooding thing'. The _cheek_."

She laughed, heartily. "Oh shush." She lent closer to him and grabbed his hand, turning it to face palm upwards.

He was immediately disarmed with how little and perfect her hands were. They were soft and white like snow, but they were warm. Deft little fingers grazed over his oversized, calloused hands and he thought that the hands that were holding his must have been crafted from marble.

He was distracted by her voice again. "Let him come to you." She whispered, delicately.

She moved his hand towards the colt and he gulped, unconsciously. The Unipeg started at Orion, and Orion waited a moment or two before the colt shifted closer and sniffed the tips of Orion's held out fingers.

He could feel the cold breath panting out of the colt's muzzle on his hand. And then the colt started to lick him, beginning its systematic task of tasting every part of Orion's hands.

Orion's eyes widened and he turned to Walburga who was smiling at him. "He is quite cute, i suppose."

Walburga arched an eyebrow and her smile widened. "Well, what do you know? There is a cooing heart tucked away in there after all." She said, taking her hand from his and scratching behind the colt's ears. He immediately felt the cold loss that her touch left in its wake, but he smiled through the feeling at her words.

He scratched under the colt's chin and its tongue tried to follow his hand. "What's his name?" He asked, lightly.

Walburga paused for a moment in thought. "He… well I suppose he doesn't have one. Daddy just calls him 'the Unipeg'." She said, shrugging.

"Well… how about we name him… together?" Orion said, cringing at the nervousness in his voice. _Blacks aren't nervous._

Her face brightened considerably. "Now? Alright, well what name do you propose?"

Orion paused for a moment and narrowed his eyes in thought. "Hmm… well-" He had no proposal at all. "I… have nothing." He said, shaking his head.

She seemed to be thinking hard because she didn't seem to notice the feathery, brown fur that was clinging to her skirts. "Well he's a pretty thing isn't he? And regal, too. I think he's quite befitting of a celestial name?"

He smiled. "Ah. Make him a true Black."

"That's right. I reckon he's good enough to be a Black." She said.

He looked down at her and smiled wryly. "In all my time, I've never heard anyone call the Blacks 'good'.

"She lifted a shoulder in a small shrug and smiled at him. "No, I suppose 'good' isn't the right word. But we have pretty names and pretty faces so who cares if we're good?"

He laughed, loudly. "You know, I hear that was almost going to be the official house motto; 'we're pretty and rich so who cares if we're good?'" He said, jokingly. Orion found himself succumbing to the almighty whirlpool of her laughter. The sweet and succulent sound that filled his lungs, his mind. A crescendo of divinity.

"Well which constellation then?" She said, still smiling.

He looked down at her, still taller than her when they were crouching. "Well isn't that obvious? Pegasus." He said, cringing at the rough colt's tongue running in between his fingers.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realise we we're going to be incredibly lame about this." A smile stretched her lips.

He laughed. "The question is; which star?"

"Hmm, Enif." She said after a moment of consideration.

"Enif?"

"Yes. Epsilon Pegasi; the brightest star in the Pegasus constellation. Plus, 'little Enif' is adorable."

Orion smiled at her. "Are you kidding? Enif is an ugly name."

"Oh and _Walburga_ is any better." She said, laughter in her voice.

He smirked. "Alright then, Enif. Very majestic." He said, stroking his fingers across Enif's snout.

She turned back to face the Unipeg in front of her. "Yes, I'd like to think so."


	8. Weight

_**A/N:** This chapter has less dialogue idk why, bare with. I promise I respond to feedback so if you want to see more of a particular thing or you have ideas about where the plot should go, please tell me bc I love to know what people want._

* * *

Walburga sat at a small round table in the shade outside Rosa Lee Teashop in Diagon Alley, slowly moving the weight of the spoon through her tea. The last few weeks had been tiresome. She and Orion had spent an increasing amount of time together walking through the forest or having tea in Diagon Alley or playing cards in the drawing room of either Grimmauld Place or Black Estate. She supposed she was enjoying the time in his company but she couldn't help wonder if he was just pitying her.

She knew that he was guarding her where Cygnus was concerned but. Truth be told, Cygnus was spending more time at other gala's and social events and neither Walburga nor Cygnus had seen all that much of each other, despite their residence in the same manor. Perhaps Orion knew this and didn't care, maybe he genuinely appreciated her accompany. _That's a sweet thought, 'Burga,_ she mused to herself. _Goodness you're going soft._

She sighed and took another sip of her tea. In all of the confusion of how she felt, the bug that she'd somehow contracted was not letting up, though nor had it progressed and Walburga was counting her few blessings. But in the state that she was in, she was finding herself becoming overwhelmed by all of it and she had owled Mabel hoping for a day of either painstaking confiding or blissful distraction with her best friend.

So here she sat now in a looser áo dài robe, swirling another sugar cube into her tea and waiting for Mabel to show up. Only two more minutes passed before a blonde woman in a light blue corseted dress walked up to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down, smoothing out her dress rather dramatically.

"Walburga dear, you look horrific!" Mabel said, waving down a waiter from inside.

Walburga narrowed her eyes. "Always a delight, Mae. Thanks." She said flatly.

"Well I only care about you, darling." She paused, turning to a young girl in a black apron. "Tea, milk and a plate of scones," she turned back to Walburga, "anything else for you?" Mabel dismissed the waitress after Walburga shook her head.

She looked back to Walburga again and splayed her hands out on the table. "So tell me, where _have_ you been? Last I saw you, you disappeared off half way through your own ball."

Walburga sighed. "I haven't exactly been all that well. I think I might have contracted something quite awful and it doesn't seem to be going away any time soon."

"Ew. Don't come too close."

Walburga rolled her eyes. "It's not contagious, Mae. Don't be dramatic."

The waitress came back then and placed a tea tray on the table, Mabel dismissing the young girl with a smile.

"Right, well it's been terribly boring without you. Who am I supposed to shop with? Serafina? She's fun and a useful gossip but she's a fucking bimbo and that's putting it lightly." She said, popping a sugar cube into her now milky tea cup and stirring it lightly.

"Mae! Goodness, you've a mouth like a pimp!" Walburga admonished. After a moment of consideration, she continued. "I don't disagree though. Sera could gossip for England." She chuckled.

"That she could," Mabel said smiling, "although I'm still disappointed that you left so early that night, you know. Marcus and I were going to invite you and Orion back to his father's place, his parents are away in Malta you know, so Marc is taking full advantage of the free space." She said, eyebrows wiggling.

Walburga sighed despite her smile. "Since when are you and Marcus McKinnon so friendly anyway? I saw you getting all cosy at the ball." She lifted her tea to her lips.

"Since that St. Mungo's charity evening at the Ministry, actually. He's very fun." At Walburga's raised brow she laughed. "Oh come on. Don't play like you don't know what I mean. I saw you and Orion at the ball too, you know. And they way that poor boy was looking at you," she gave a dreamy sigh, "I hope you're playing with his dick like you're playing with his feelings."

Walburga choked on her tea and after a scandalised coughing fit, she looked back at Mabel with wide eyes. "For the love of all things magical, I hope you're joking." Mabel only smiled. "Merlin, you're not. Does that mean you an- and… Marcus?"

Humility finally seemed to find its way to Mabel in the form of a pink blush on her cheeks. "Oh come on, Burga. Don't tell me you're actually going to wait for marriage."

"You clearly haven't!" She said, clearing her throat with the rest of her tea.

"Of course I haven't! Too boring. And Marcus is nice, you haven't even properly met him. He's amusing!" She said, buttering a scone.

"Mabel! If he's amusing, laugh!"

"Oh you're so dramatic. Look I know he sleeps around but it- it's more than that. We've been having fun for a couple of months now and… you know, he's not bad company. I'm not often all that taken with men but…" she giggled bashfully, "he's something else."

Walburga watched her friend incredulously. "Oh Merlin, we're both going soft." She said, shaking her head.

"Both?" Mabel exclaimed, seeming to blink herself back into the present.

"No." Walburga shook her head. "I'm not ready for that particular conversation right now." She said, absentmindedly taking half a buttered scone from Mabel's plate.

Mabel nodded, knowing when Walburga needed to not be pressed. She sipped her tea again and a comfortable lull fell in their conversation. They sat and breathed in the brisk clearness of the cold winter air and Walburga was grateful that she had decided to bring her thicker of traveling cloaks.

"Oh I had almost forgotten." Mabel perked up again. "I meant to ask if it was true, that your brother was looking at settling down." Walburga's brow furrowed in confusion. "I mean it makes sense, I heard about his early promotion and what with Alphard planning to travel, it'd probably be a good time."

Walburga raised her hand. "Hold on, what are you talking about? Cygnus? Cygnus is settling down?"

"Well... yes. I thought you knew." Mabel blinked but Walburga only shook her head. "Well maybe it's not true then, Serafina's not exactly trustworthy to be entirely honest, but she told me that Abraxas Malfoy was talking to Cygnus and told Sera that Cygnus had mentioned a fair few things about the Rosier girl." She said, sipping her tea again. She placed it back into the saucer and looked up again. "Sera was quite happy with herself that she had that information."

"Wait, which Rosier girl? There's three."

Mabel paused. "Oh, I'm not sure." She shrugged. "Why don't you ask him?"

Walburga stiffened immediately and looked down to her empty teacup. "Yes, maybe."

Mabel noticed straight away that something wasn't right with Walburga. She reached an arm over and lay it on Walburga's wrist. "Wallie, what's wrong? You look peaky."

Walburga looked up and nodded. "Nothing, i'm fine. How about Madam Maulkin's, hm? I need new robes."

Mabel hesitated then nodded slowly. "Alright… I suppose."

"Brilliant." Picking seven galleons and five sickles, Walburga placed them on the table, clipped her cloak to the broaches at her shoulders and she and Mabel left the Teashop in the direction of new clothes.

They spent the afternoon walking the length of Diagon Alley and back again several times. Walburga bought a new magical mystery novel from Flourish and Blotts and a Skin-Clearing Elixir from Madam Pimpernelle's. They had also talked more about what Serafina Malfoy had said about Cygnus. As it turns out, Cygnus had met the girl at Pollux's ball and had talked to Mr. Rosier straight away about engagement. Mr. Rosier had wanted to get to know both Cygnus and Pollux Black more but a betrothal was very clearly only weeks away.

Walburga thought long and hard about how she felt about Cygnus being betrothed. At first she decided it was a wonderful idea because any distraction to Cygnus' ire was a welcome one in her opinion. However the more she contemplated the ins and outs of what distracting Cygnus involved, the closer she came to the conclusion that she didn't really like the idea of some poor girl being subject to that ire. By the end of the day she was tired and had decidedly given up all thought about it. _Oh well_ , she thought. _The woman can surely handle herself._

* * *

The next few days were painful. Her illness had gotten worse and she was now feeling quite faint when she stood or moved too fast or even if the room was too bright. Walburger had vomited four times over three days which, whilst not as much as the first week, was horrific. However she would not let Irma bring her to the healer's, no matter how bad it became. How could she? The healer would know exactly what was poisoning her and perhaps that didn't give anything away but she knew that if her mother found out any more than she already knew, then her entire façade would crumble and she would surely spill every detail of that night. No. Walburga would have to keep her lips sealed.

Because of Walburga's persistent refusal of professional help, Irma had cast her daughter to bed for the better part of her days. She was brought a tray of tea and fruit - and other foods that were easy to keep down - that her mother would bring to her before setting it on her bedside table. They could then sit on Walburga's bed where they could talk to each other for hours, often laughing over one of Irma's silly anecdotes.

Walburga had always been close with her mother, of course, due to her being the woman's only daughter. They'd had a special bond that Walburga didn't have with anyone else and it had only strengthened since she had taken ill. However, as self secure as Pollux was, Irma knew that he needed some of her attention too, so Irma often spent time with him when he needed it.

During the times she was locked away in her room for rest and Irma was convincing Pollux that _no, his daughter is just fine_ , Walburga had been making quite a bit of headway in her new mystery novel. However she was tiring of it somewhat now. The story line was genuinely quite fast-paced and interesting but there was a tiring cliché romance between the hard-hearted detective and the vivacious young rookie that was lapping at Walburga's interest, and despite the amusing dialogue, Walburga found herself bored and restless.

She threw the duvet from her lap and looked down at herself in her slippers, fleece pajama bottoms and her thick dressing gown. She sighed and stood slowly from her bed, stripped herself of her pajamas and pulled loose fitting robes over her head, buttoning the chest fabrics and tying the silk belt around her waist loosely in a wizarding mock of the aristocratic áo giao lĩnh.

She nodded to herself in the mirror and slowly made her way out of her room and downstairs to the drawing room. She reached the double doors in the entrance hall and peaked in. The four pairs of eyes belonging to her family turned to her and she blushed slightly as she walked in and sat down on one of the sofas.

"Goodness Walburga, been a while since we've seen you out of bed." Alphard said next to her, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in for a warm embrace. "You look exhausted," he said to her quietly, "how're you feeling?"

"I'm okay, Alphard, really." She lent into his side.

He nodded. "Good." He said and picked a glass of water off a tray that Tippy was carrying. "Here, water'll do you some good."

"Thank you," she said, taking a sip, "so… tell me about your travel plans."

Alphard sat back again, telling her of how he was flooing to the French Magical Ministry in Paris and taking a broom ride to Calais where he would spend however many weeks he wished being a fully-fledged bachelor until he tired and moved on to Germany or Italy. He told her he was actually hoping to spend a few months in Vietnam as he'd spent so little time there as a boy. The Blacks had moved from Vietnam to France when he was only nine years old to escape the troubles that the muggles seemed to be having at the time. By 1936, the entire family had been relocated to Paris and their surname translated into English because – no matter how much they protest otherwise – the Wizarding population was heavily influenced by the muggles and they had adopted the muggles' newfound suspicion of anything foreign.

Walburga smiled at Alphard's enthusiasm though and she was happy to see her younger brother so excited.

"Walburga darling, how are you, truly?" Walburga turned to her mother who was perched on the arm of Pollux's leather chair.

"Not brilliant but better than I have been." She said, giving her mother a smile.

Irma nodded. "It's been going on for so long I thought it might be something a bit more sinister. But now that your uncle Arcturus has taken ill with something much the same, I suppose it is just a heavy dose of a bad bug."

Cygnus' head shot up from the chaise opposite next to Pollux's chair. "Uncle Arcturus is ill?"

Irma shook her head. "Nothing you should worry about. He's not nearly as bad as your sister." She turned back to face Walburga, "but now that you're feeling slightly better, you might be able to join us for dinner, hm?"

"Yes, 'Burga, it really has been too long since we've all sat down for dinner as a family." Cygnus said, a sweet smile on his face.

She nodded shakily, not looking him in the eye.

"Shall we, then?" Pollux said, making to sit up from his chair. Everyone else followed the patriarch's example and made their way to the dining room across the entrance hall.

* * *

Walburga hadn't realised how long it had been since she had sat at the dinner table with her family. Even before she had become ill, Cygnus and Alphard were often out and about at bars with their friends or entertaining department heads at the Ministry or reuniting with Slytherin classmates from their Hogwarts days. Her father, too, was frequently away from home in the evenings attending meetings with Regenald Plunkett, head of the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, as Pollux spent much of his life deep in the bowels of the magical beasts market, and sometimes he was even meeting with the Minister himself – they'd always been quite friendly.

But now sitting here with her family, eating elf-made bánh canh and listening to them talking, she supposed she'd missed the time spent with them, although it was different from how it was when she was younger. Walburga herself was no longer putting forth her own rather loud opinions, she hadn't thought much of her views since that night with Cygnus. And Pollux was no longer talking at his children but with them. _Well we're adults now_ , she reasoned. It was true, Walburga and her brothers had grown and she only realised it properly in that moment.

"Mr. Caseus is a good man. I definitely recommend getting involved with him, Cygnus. You too, Alphard. Even if you're moving away, he's handy to have on your list of friends – very resourceful, that man." Pollux said, lifting his drink to his mouth.

Alphard nodded and brought his chopsticks to his mouth, swallowing down more noodles but Cygnus spoke up. "Well, with respects to making friends, yourself and Mr. Rosier have become quite acquainted, Father."

Pollux's brow furrowed. "Of course, he's a good sort, you know."

"Mr. Rosier is nice enough if I remember correctly. Blonde man?" Irma said politely.

Pollux nodded.

"Actually Mother," Cygnus said, placing his drink back on the table, "Father and I have news for you, for all of you. Druella Rosier is a girl I met at the Father's last ball, a couple of weeks ago. I have asked Mr. Rosier if I may have her hand in marriage. We intend to be wed within the month."

Walburga's head snapped up, as did Alphard's. "You're getting married?!" Alphard exclaimed.

"Within the month!?" Irma was shocked to say the least, "why so soon? You hardly know her!"

"I don't have to know her any more than I already do. She's young, of course, but sweet and she'll make a good wife and mother for my children." Cygnus said, clearly stating he was not to be moved from his stand point.

Something happened then, something that had not happened before. Irma stared into her son, that same admonishing stare she used to give him when he was a boy and had done something wrong. But Cygnus was no longer looking down at his feet and sulking, he was no longer accepting his place in the family as the youngest and last to be in charge. Cygnus stared right back at his mother now and the tension hung in the air, thick enough to be cut.

Pollux seemed to be somewhat annoyed at the challenge that his son had just issued his wife. His eyes narrowed in irritation but he placed his hand atop Irma's wrist on the table to diffuse the situation some.

"It is very soon. Merlin knows that children these days like to jump straight into things, but over the last few weeks I have gotten to know Rosier quite well. He's a good man, and the girl is good too, I believe." He said to Irma as she seemed to relax. "And what with his eldest daughter so recently widowed, I think Jolie Rosier is quite eager to have at least one of his daughters married off."

She finally looked away from Cygnus at Pollux's touch and Cygnus seemed to notice this new power shift, smiling indulgently. "In fact, Mr. Rosier is planning on hosting a ball at the end of this week to celebrate the engagement. You could meet her then, Mother."

Irma shook her head, "children always rushing into the things," she muttered. "I'd like to meet her sooner. Today is Sunday. She can spend the afternoon here on Tuesday." Irma nodded and carried on eating, leaving Cygnus no time to come up with a retort and leaving no room for argument.

Alphard and Walburga looked at each other with narrowed eyes, both silently questioning the obvious power struggle that had just happened in front of them.

"Well," Alphard breathed, "I think it is sweet and all that little Cyggy is getting married but you could've mentioned your interest in her a bit sooner. I'll be gone before the end of the month and I don't plan on missing your wedding!"

Cygnus smiled tightly at the nickname. "Apologies."

Alphard shrugged, "I'll owl and postpone the trip. I want to see my baby brother become a man."

"I'd like to meet her too." Walburga said carefully.

Cygnus smiled again, "of course. You'll like her 'Burga. You can teach her all about being a good woman." He said to her sweetly, pinching more noodles from his bowl and putting them in his mouth.


	9. Charm

"Walburga you still look so ill."

She was getting quite tired of hearing it to be entirely honest. Yes, thank you, she was aware of her pale skin turning a sickly green colour. And yes, she had also copped the bags under her eyes that she had attempted to magic away with a glamour charm or two.

Despite her tiring of hearing the phrase, though, she smiled brightly because Orion was the one telling her this time and his voice was not one of regal distaste but of genuine concern.

"I'm fine, Orrie, really." He arched an unconvinced brow. "Please, stop worrying. You think I'd be aloud off the estate if I weren't well enough? Mabel would have a fit." She said wryly.

Walburga had gotten an owl from Orion late on Sunday evening asking if they could spend the day together on Monday and then meet up with a few people in the evening. She'd sent a short missive back in reply telling him she'd be in the Leaky Cauldron by eleven.

"That's true, Mabel's… well she's something." He said, offering her an arm which she took politely and together they headed out of the pub and into Diagon Alley.

"That she is. I'm sure you've been seeing quite a bit of her what with she and McKinnon being so… _engrossed_." She shuddered.

He laughed. "Yes they've become quite attached. They'll be at the bar tonight. You been there? To DragonHorn's?"

She shook her head. "No, afraid I haven't. A bar?"

He rested his hand on hers where it was clutching his arm. "Sort of. It's a restaurant, high class place but the bar room is where the boys like to host their poker games."

She nodded in understanding and he turned her toward a small café on the right road of the fork encompassing Gringotts. He sat her on a small table in the shade and ordered a coffee for himself and a heavily sugared black tea for her. "How have you been, truly?" He asked.

She sighed. "Better, thankfully. Those first couple of weeks were rough but I feel like my body is fighting it off now… slowly." She added, irritably.

"Are you still throwing up?"

Her lip curled. "Oh please, Orrie. This is not a conversation a woman should be having with a man." She looked away, embarrassed.

He reached an arm across the table and held her hand. "Please Walburga, I'm not some man. I'm your friend. It's been a while since we've seen each other and I'm concerned."

She hesitated, not sure if she should go against all the schooling her mother had given her on how to act in front of the other sex. She sighed heavily. "Alright, well… yes. Although not nearly as much as before. I've lost quite a bit of weight to it, too."

He nodded and sat back as a waiter place his coffee in front of him and her tea in front of her. Orion nodded to the man in dismissal and turned his attention back to Walburga. "Sounds awful. I won't lie, that night that the fever took you, I… I was quite scared."

Walburga nodded solemnly. "Yes. Mother told me that you… you said I was drugged, th-that I didn't know who had done it."

He gulped his emotion down and told himself to keep staring at her. _If she's strong enough to talk about this then the least you could do is not be such a Merlin-forsaken pussy._ "You don't have to do this. Not if you don't want to."

She shook her head resolutely. "No. We need to talk about this. At least enough to get our story straight."

He nodded. "Does your father know as much as your mother?" He started carefully.

"No. Father knows nothing. I asked her not to tell him, he'd only become all protective and angry and I just really cannot deal with that right now. You haven't told your parents anything, have you?" She said, taking a sip of tea.

He winced.

"Oh you didn't, Orion. There'll be a scandal! I don't care how quiet we have to be, we can't have a scandal. The Blacks are already the foreigners, we can't give them any more fodder than they have." She exclaimed, clearly starting to panic. Tears came to her eyes and Orion silently cursed himself. This was already an incredibly touchy subject and he wasn't treading nearly lightly enough.

Other patrons around them started to look over at the quick, shallow breathing, assuming Orion was the one to have caused Lady Black to become so distressed.

He clasped both her hands in his and lent closer to her. "Shh, Walburga. Listen to me. My father's not going to tell. I had no choice, he was going to kill me for fighting with Cygnus and he was demanding some sort of explanation. He's not going to tell a soul, I promise you."

It took a few moments for her to calm herself completely and he found himself quite unprepared with how little it took to scare her these days. She never used to be so volcanic and now here she was sipping tea and trying to stop her hands shaking. Orion felt a white hot rage bubble up in his chest at Cygnus for all the terrible wrongs he had done to this woman, and all the pain he was still managing to cause her.

After a moment she spoke again, timidly. "I heard your father had taken ill, too."

Orion let out a breath. "Yes, most likely just the flu. He'll be fine." She nodded in understanding. "He told me about Cygnus though."

She looked up, wary of him at the mention of Cygnus' name. "What about him?"

"Just that he was engaged. That the wedding is just after Christmas – quite soon really, considering it's only been three days since December _started._ " He swirled his tea absentmindedly.

Comprehension cleared her face. "Oh yes. I'm to be meeting the girl tomorrow."

"You've not met her before?" He asked.

"No… have you?"

He blew out a breath of air. "Well Dariel Rosier was three years above me in school but he was a chaser on the Quidditch Team, we still keep in touch actually, he's coming to DragonHorn's tonight."

She placed her cup and saucer on the table. "And…?"

"Well I believe the girl that Cygnus is marrying is Dariel's youngest sister." He paused then and looked deeply unsettled. "The thing is, Dariel's youngest sister isn't even out of Hogwarts yet."

Walburga's eyes widened. "What?!"

"I mean, I might be wrong but as far as I was aware, the girl is in 5th year." Orion took another mouthful of coffee, his expression almost pained with discomfort.

* * *

Tuesday morning had started with the type of harshness and bitterness that only the beginnings of winter could bring. The rain shot from the sky like ice cold daggers and Walburga could feel a December chillness in the walls of the Manor as they groaned and creaked. She was in half a mind to believe that the house itself was at least part sentient with all the noise it made in the chill.

After showering herself down, she dressed and was now sat at her dresser, running her wand through her hair as it blew warm air through her curls in an attempt to dry it.

Walburga was still trying to figure out how this morning would go. She'd thought about it and after everything Cygnus had done, she couldn't picture him sinking this low. It was no news to her that women had no say in who they married or why they married them. The patriarchs of the family are the deciders, always. And yes that had annoyed her to no end but in her years since Hogwarts she had come to accept her place in such a noble household. Or perhaps it was the fact that her house was noble that she could stand the concept of being a Pureblood Lady in the 20th Century.

But she couldn't really get her head around the idea that Cygnus was ready to just take a girl out of her education so that he could play husband, knowing full well that the girl had no voice. That being said, if she had been raised well then she should see it as none but an honour to be chosen to join such a prestigious house.

Walburga sighed to herself inwardly. She'd been doing a lot of sighing recently. No crying though, she was above that. She hadn't allowed herself to think on anything that might make her cry – and there were a fair few of those thoughts.

She finished drying her hair and brushed the roots to make them look fluffy and full. After a Glamour Charm to cover the rings of fatigue around her eyes and Madam Pimpernelle's Skin-Clearing Elixir on her cheeks, Walburga re-buttoned her áo dài robe and headed for the kitchens for some sort of fruit in place of breakfast.

She sat at a small, wooden table trying to will herself to eat the rest of an apple that she'd only taken one bite of before her stomach started to protest.

"Walburga, darling, I'm so glad you're well enough for tea today." Walburga looked up to where her mother was stood in the doorway to the kitchens. "Lucille Nott is coming because it's been a while since she and I saw each other. You'll have Mabel here, of course, as well as Druella." Irma said, all the while distastefully eyeing the dirt on the un-sanded wood of the table.

"Will Mrs. Rosier not be coming to meet us?" Walburga asked.

Irma gave a sad smile. "I'm afraid Mrs. Rosier died around five years ago. Your father tells me that Mr. Rosier – Jolie, that is – has had a bit of trouble trying to get all four of his children married off since his wife passed." She said, walking toward the table.

"Why is he in such a hurry to marry them off?"

Irma gestured vaguely. "Well, you know…" She said, trailing off.

Walburga's brows furrowed. "Actually no, Mother… I don't."

"Nothing you should worry about, Darling. He's just an old man who would like to see grandchildren before he passes on."

Walburga nodded absentmindedly, her mind already turning back to what Orion had said the day before. He might not be right, Orion probably heard Dariel wrong.

"Mother, have you met the Rosier girl?"

Irma pursed her lips. "Walburga, her name is Druella. You'll be family quite soon, so you'd best start using her name." She paused to pick non-existent flint from her robes. "In any case, no. I met Jolie with your father not long ago but I've not seen his daughter before."

* * *

Walburga sat back on the chaise, listening to Mabel talk animatedly about how her mother was being a right pain in the arse. But Walburga had one ear to the door, where the ornate silver knocker had been wrapped against the oak and Jibsey, the house elf, and Irma had made their way to the door to greet the woman that stood on the other side.

Irma would not have answered the door to anyone else - that was certainly the job of the house elf – but considering Druella knew no one of this house, the matriarch decided to make a good first impression, starting with a warm welcome.

"… and you know it wouldn't be so annoying if Mother actually gave me any credit for what I'm doing right, y'know?" Mabel said, exasperated. "But no, it's all 'you're going out too much, those boys'll think you're easy!'"

"Certainly sounds frustrating." Walburga said, her mind elsewhere. She could hear Irma's voice coming closer.

"Druella, darling, you look frozen. Jibsey will take your cloak and we'll get you warmed up at the fire." Irma prattled on as she and Druella Rosier made their way into the main drawing room. "That bitter cold is doing nobody any good."

Druella smiled bashfully as she handed a thick, grey travelling cloak to the patient elf at her feet. "Thank you, Lady Black."

Walburga and Mabel both seemed to do a double take of the young woman standing at the double doors to the drawing room. As Druella made her way to the sofa closest to the fireplace, Walburga looked the woman over. Woman? _She's barely a girl!_ Orion was right. Druella stood at 5"4 at just sixteen years old. She was a pretty girl of course. A widow's peak dripped from her hair line at the middle of her forehead and hung the blonde hair around her shoulders dead straight. With a tanned complexion and blonde hair – the whiter Malfoy blonde rather than the golden hue of the Mckinnons – she had an exotic look about her and Walburga could tell she would grow up to be a real beauty.

But that was just the problem: she was not grown. She was a girl with a heart shaped face and plump cheeks. The blue prints of curves clung to her lithe frame but she was not curvy; her youthful body still held the slenderness of immaturity. She was young, fresh-faced and shy. Nothing at all, like herself.

Walburga caught herself staring and quickly looked away only to find Mabel's eyebrows practically skirting her hairline. Mabel was stunned at the girl before her.

Just as Irma was ready to seat herself, the wolf-shaped knocker wrapped against the polished oak of the front door again. She huffed slightly. "Druella, this is my daughter, Walburga, and her close friend, Mabel." She said, quickly as Walburga and Mabel stood to greet the girl. "Girls, this is Druella Rosier. I need to go find Lucille so I'm sure you'll make her feel welcome." She said before rushing off to the entrance hall.

Druella looked alarmed at the prospect of being left alone with two strangers.

Mabel and Walburga, still standing, looked toward each other and in a second seemed to communicate that neither of them knew that this woman was, in fact, just a girl. Mabel turned her head back to the young girl on the chaise who seemed to be looking around the room, trying to find something to distract herself with.

"Well, Druella, yes?" Mabel said, sitting down next to the girl.

Druella looked up, eyes wide. "Oh yes." She nodded.

Mabel nodded. "Ah good. I'm Mabel Fawley, very pleased to meet you."

"And I, you." Druella said shyly.

Mabel smiled. "Walburga, why don't you sit down?" She gestured to a small armchair and Walburga sat, "so tell me, Dru – can I call you that? – how are you?"

Walburga snapped her fingers in the air, calling Jibsey to her so that he could serve them tea as they chatted.

"I'm quite well, thank you."

Mabel scoffed slightly. "Well I'm impressed, in that weather. Yule is clearly on its way. You have many plans for the season?"

Druella gave a small shrug. "Just whatever Father is planning to bring me to. Wedding plans might take up a bit of time."

It was clear to Walburga, as she poured her tea from the tray Jibsey held, that Druella was, quite frankly, bricking it. She was being polite but reserved, her back straight and chin dipped in subtle submission. But Walburga's years in training to be the second class citizen to The Pureblood Man had made her quite adept at picking up on the subtle and Walburga had no doubt that Druella had been raised similarly. She silently wondered if Druella actually wanted much part in this wedding.

"Ah yes," Walburga said, speaking at last, "you must be excited to be wed so soon."

Druella squirmed under the scrutiny of the future sister-in-law that she had to impress but the girl's enthusiasm was evident under her hesitancy.

She nodded. "Oh yes. I'm very excited. Nervous a bit, but Father says that it will be a wonderful celebration."

"Hmm, and what do you think?" Walburga asked in earnest.

"Oh I do, too. It's quite exciting all this talk of weddings. I didn't think it would be so soon, but Mr. Black has been so kind and charming and you have such a noble family, I'd be honoured to carry the name." Druella's speech seemed somewhat rehearsed but she was truthful. Walburga sipped her tea.

"Oh of course, so noble," Mabel rolled her eyes, "the politics is not really what I'm looking for here. I want the juicy detail. Tell me all about your dalliance with 'Mr. Black'." She said, wiggling her brows suggestively.

Druella blushed. "Oh no, no dalliance…" she stuttered. "We met at a Ministry function evening and- well he was ever so sweet to me and he bought me this lovely ring and…" she blushed again. "Well, he's been quite charming."

"Merlin, certainly _looks_ like it." Mabel chuckled, marveling at the rock on Druella's hand. "You could probably call him Cygnus, at this point though."

"Oh yes… probably, would it be proper?"

Mabel raised a brow. "You're telling me that you're engaged to a man who hasn't heard his own name in your voice."

Druella paused in thought. "Well, we're still getting to know each other, I suppose."

Walburga frowned but didn't comment further on it. "So, Druella. You're still at Hogwarts?"

The young girl nodded. "Yes. I'm in sixth year. Slytherin." The pureblood pride was evident as she said it.

Walburga inwardly cringed - she probably wasn't even of age. Walburga picked up her teacup and saucer again, idly watching the painted birds on the china flying around the smooth white handle.

"So you're still doing your N.E.W.T.s? What happens after the wedding?" Mabel asked.

"Oh well I wondered the same thing myself so I asked my father. He said it was up to Mr. Black and I think he wants me to withdraw from school after the wedding and stay at home with him."

"So you won't finish school? Doesn't that annoy you? Surely you've put a lot of work into your N.E.W.T.s and you have to just give up?" Walburga found herself unreasonably outraged considering that it wasn't she having to give up her hard work.

"Well I was confused about it too, at first," Druella said, looking down at her hands briefly. "But my father says that I won't need any N.E.W.T.s to get married, and I suppose he's right. At this point, finishing school just isn't necessary."

Walburga silently stormed and tried to calm herself but she just couldn't settle herself. How dare Cygnus take this poor and innocent girl? How dare he rob her of her future? How dare take her right to an education, a life? How was this allowed? Cygnus shouldn't be allowed, she thought. And yet she saw no one ready to stop him. Nobody but her could see what was happening, she felt trapped and ready to throw up. Was she going to vomit? No. She was going to keel over, she was going suffocate without even realising that the girl she was thinking about was not Druella at all.

"'Burga? You alright?"

Walburga turned to look at Mabel, realising that she was very obviously hyperventilating. Her chest was heaving and it was happening again. Just like at breakfast, she was going to die.

"Walburga, talk to me what's wrong." Mabel was in front of her, kneeling and clasping her knees. How did she get there? Walburga didn't remember her moving.

Walburga was shaking her head, there were no words. Her mouth opened and closed, gaping like a fish out of water, a woman with no lungs.

"C-can't." She rasped, her heart clenching in pain at the effort.

She felt herself being lifted beneath her arms, weight moving from the sofa as Druella quickly moved out of the way.

"Shhh. It's alright, Walburga." Irma. The calming voice of her mother. "Cục cưng." She couldn't see her, the room blurred but she could hear her mother. She wanted her mother, she wanted her mẹ.

She felt herself being lifted again and pulled. She took two steps forward. She fainted.


End file.
